

iECOND COPY, 
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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

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CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS 


BOOKS FOR BOYS 


BY WILLIAM DRYSDALE 

THE YOUNG REPORTER. A STORY OF PRINTING 
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THE FAST MAIL. The Story of a Train Boy. 
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THE BEACH PATROL. A Story of the Life- 
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THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. A Story of the 
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CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. A Story 
OF OUR Naval Campaign in Cuban Waters. 
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“‘SHE’LL GET A GENTLE HINT IN A MINUTE OR TWO.’” 


Cadet Standish of the 
St. Louis 


A STORY OF OUR NAVAL CAMPAIGN 
IN CUBAN WATERS 



WILLIAM DRYSDALE 

AUTHOR OF “THE YOUNG REPORTER,” “THE FAST MAIL,” 
“THE BEACH PATROL,” “THE YOUNG SUPERCARGO,” ETC. 


ILLUSTRATED BY H, BURGESS. 



BOSTON AND CHICAGO 
W. A. WILDE & COMPANY 






Copyright, 1899, 

By W. a. Wilde & Company. 

All rights reserved. 

CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

TWO COPIES RECCIVED, 





PREFACE. 


The writer, the artist, and the publishers of Cadet Standish 
unite in expressing their thanks to the International Navigation 
Company (American Line) for valuable assistance in making 
the story and the illustrations true to life. 

'Fo the artist the Company kindly supplied photographs and 
drawings of their ships at sea and in action ; and although 
these are not reproduced in their original form, they furnish 
the details as to ship and armament, which enable the artist 
to make the illustrations thoroughly accurate. 

The writer is deeply indebted to the obliging officers of the 
Company for much information regarding the war-service of 
the S^. Louis and her armament, and for important suggestions 
and papers, — among the latter an abridged copy of the war- 
log of the ship, showing her whereabouts on every day of her 
naval service. All of the suggestions he has gladly followed, 
except where for the purposes of the story he has sometimes, 
in minor affairs, slightly changed the dates of the ship’s move- 
ments ; and for the same reason he persists in shooting away 
a few feet of her rail in Guantanamo Bay, although she happily 
went through the war without injury. 

5 


6 


PREFACE. 


Captain J. E. Brady, the President’s confidential agent at 
Tampa during the war (he who met Cadet Standish at Port 
Tampa and telegraphed his important news to Washington), 
should also be thanked for the insight he gave the writer into 
the workings of the Government’s Secret Service in time of 
war. During the Santiago campaign the writer frequently 
stood by Captain Brady’s side at the army headquarters in 
Tampa, at one end of a wire whose other end was in the White 
House, and saw the President instantly informed of the most 
minute happenings, at all hours of the day and night. 

With such sources of information (to which must be added 
important data supplied by the Navy Department), coupled 
with the writer’s lifelong acquaintance with Santiago and Cuba, 
and the Catskill region in which the story opens, it is confi- 
dently believed that the young reader will find in Cadet Stan- 
dish not only a romance which may perchance amuse him, but 
accurate descriptions of places and events that may prove of 
more lasting benefit. 


CONTENTS. 

I 


CHAPTBR 

I. 

Hard Times in Cairo 

. 


PAGE 

I I 

II. 

A Cuban Coffee Plantation 

• 


22 

III. 

Preparing to ‘‘ Take Boarders ” . 

• 


• 33 

IV. 

A Summons into the World 

• 


• 47 

V. 

Cadet Engineer Standish 

• 


. 62 

VI. 

War Clouds Gather 

• 


. . 8o 

VII. 

Enlisted in the Navy . 

• 


. 92 

VIII. 

Dewey is heard from . 

• 


. 109 

IX. 

In the Enemy’s Waters 

• 


. 130 

X. 

The Hero of Guantanamo . 

• 


• 139 

XL 

The News reaches Home 

• 


• 157 

XII. 

Making a New Cuban . 

• 


. 167 

XIII. 

Instructions from Commander McCalla 


. 181 

XIV. 

Gil lands in Cuba .... 

• 


. 190 

XV. 

Betrayed by the Senora 

• 

/ 

. 207 

XVI. 

Gil escapes from his Captors 

* 

, 

. 223 


7 


8 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

XVII. A Friend in Need 234 

XVIII. The Almirez & Warfield Warehouse . . 254 

XIX. Surprising News from Consul Ramsden . . 266 

XX. Gil visits his Plantation 277 

XXI. A Daring Escape from Santiago . . . 290 

XXII. On Board the St. Paul 304 

XXIII. Three Days’ Furlough 315 

XXIV. The Young Hero’s Reward .... 327 

XXV. The Owner in Possession 335 

XXVI. A Thanksgiving Dinner on the Standish 

I 

Estate 


344 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


“ ‘ You’re all right, Sidney,' Gil was saying ” . 

“ ‘ She’ll get a gentle hint in a minute or two ’ ” 

“ They sprang forward and seized it, and fairly lifted Gil into 

the boat” . . -155 

“With a powerful blow he sent the Spaniard reeling” . .221 

“ There was Cervera’s fleet ” 291 


I2I 



9 











CADET STAN DISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


CHAPTER I 


HARD TIMES IN CAIRO. 



HEN I take you up to the attic to introduce 


V V you to Mrs. George W., you must regard that 
as a high compliment ; for only our best friends 
are taken into the attic. Any casual stranger, even 
a peddler or a book agent, may be shown into the 
parlor ; but the attic is the heart of the house, where 
our shop-worn treasures are kept and where our private 
little romances live. Only specially favored ones are 
admitted to the attic. 

Kindly take particular notice of the initials — Mrs. 
George W. I make this request for your own protec- 
tion, to prevent your confusing her with Mrs. William 
J. These two ladies,, both widows, both living in the 
same house, and both bearing the family name of 
Standish, are sure to become confused in your mind 
unless they are carefully distinguished at the begin- 
ning. In Cairo, where they live, people never think of 


II 


2 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


calling either of them Mrs. Standish ; it is always Mrs. 
George W. or Mrs. William J. By this plan much 
confusion is avoided, and we cannot do better than 
adopt it. 

And there is another matter to be settled as we go 
up the attic stairs. That word Cairo. When you speak 
of Cairo in Egypt, you naturally pronounce it Ki-ro. 
That is right for the town in Egypt, but it will not do 
at all for the town in New York. This is no imaginary 
place I am taking you to, but a real town of streets and 
stores and houses that you can find for yourself on any 
good map. If you have the curiosity to look, find the 
village of Catskill, on the Hudson River, and then go 
ten miles nearly due west. There, beyond Leeds, and 
on beyond South Cairo, you will find Cairo, which, being 
a real place, is inhabited by real people, who call their 
town Ka-ro ; and as common usage is what determines 
the pronunciation of proper names, we have no choice 
in the matter, but must call our Cairo, Ka-ro. 

We can go leisurely up three or four of the uncar- 
peted attic steps, and, standing with our heads just 
above the level of the floor, take time to get our bear- 
ings. Even at this distance we are welcomed by the 
mixed odors of mint and sage, savory, marjoram, tansy, 
and thyme, coming from fat bunches of herbs that 
dangle from the rafters. The spicy perfume of wood 
comes from the big cedar chest, brought from Honduras 
many years ago. And our sense of smell tells us that 


HARD TIMES IN CAIRO. 


13 


somewhere about are strings of onions, bags of hops, 
and at least part of a box of laundry soap. 

It is a large room, covering the entire top of the 
house, so high in the middle that the tallest man could 
not touch the roof, and tapering down to almost nothing 
under the eaves. And it is none too light, for the 
windows are small. But our eyes soon become accus- 
tomed to the dusk, and we see the retired treasures of 
the Standish family. In one corner is a great assort- 
ment of broken or worn-out furniture ; chairs, tables, 
old book shelves, a broken folding bed, and many other 
things. In another corner, a heap of old trunks and 
boxes that look as it they had seen long service. On a 
big table in the centre are cases and canisters contain- 
ing household stores, candles, unroasted coffee, popcorn, 
spiCes, and last year’s walnuts. In a third corner are 
boxes and barrels carefully packed with worn-out clothes 
and linens that cannot be thrown away because they 
“ may come in handy.” The fourth corner is empty, 
for there the stairs go up. 

By the little front window, well under the eaves, 
there stands a big trunk of black leather, bound with 
strong iron bands. But at this moment it is drawn out 
far enough to allow the lid to open and lean back 
against the sloping roof, revealing a layer of old ac- 
count books and carefully folded papers tied in pack- 
ages with pink tape. A retired rocking-chair with a 
weak back and worn covering has been drawn up in 


14 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

front of the trunk ; and in the chair Mrs. George W. is 
sitting, a package of the folded papers lying untied in 
her lap, in her hands a large sheet of parchment opened 
out, discolored with age, creased from long folding, and 
worn and soiled at the creases. There is a great red 
seal upon the patchment, and it bears every evidence of 
being an old-fashioned legal document. 

“ Ah, me ! ” she sighs, looking wistfully at the written 
page before her and shaking it to smooth out the springy 
folds. “ If George W. had only lived, who knows 
what this bit of paper might have been worth to us ! 
William J. did his best, but when we came to a tight 
place it was always George W. who pulled us through.” 

This thinking of her lost husband brings the mois- 
ture to Mrs. George W.’s eyes, and she lets the parch- 
ment fall to her lap and takes out her handkerchief. 
Giving way to her feelings is an unusual luxury to her, 
and perhaps she enjoys it all the more on that account. 
On three hundred and sixty days in the year she is as 
cheery a little lady as we could find in the whole of 
Cairo, though the gray in her hair and the lines about 
her eyes would show an experienced observer that her 
troubles have cut deep, for she is still too young to bear 
such marks of age. 

“ I don’t know what we are going to do,” she goes 
on, forcing back the tears. “ Times are so bad, people 
can’t pay us our little interest, and there are four 
mouths to feed. How Gil would worry if he knew ! 


HARD TIMES IN CAIRO. 


15 


But his troubles will come soon enough, poor boy, and 
he tries so hard to help along. It seems to me as if we 
must get back some of the money we paid for these old 
Spanish deeds.” 

But the slamming of a door and a quick footstep 
downstairs cause Mrs. George W. suddenly to change 
her position in the chair and the very expression of 
her face. She puts the handkerchief out of sight as 
if it were a sign of guilt. The footstep comes rapidly 
up the lower stairs and across the hall, and strikes the 
attic stairs, and finds her smiling and looking carelessly 
at the paper. There is a rush up the narrow stairs, 
and Gil Standish bursts into the attic. 

“Now, then, little mother, this won’t do!” he ex- 
claims, stooping down and putting his arm around her 
neck. “ I know what it means when you come up here 
to the black trunk. It means a fit of the dumps.” 

Her face fairly beams as she looks up to expostulate ; 
and surely she may be excused if any mother has a 
right to be proud of her boy, for Gil Standish is a boy 
to be proud of. A big boy, so stout and strong that he 
has to be very gentle and careful when he takes hold 
of his little mother. Seventeen years would be a fair 
guess, and tall for his age, with the thick and wavy 
chestnut hair of his grandfather Standish, and his 
mother’s rich brown eyes, and a clear brown skin, tinged 
with red, that came from keeping good hours and 
breathing the pure air of the Catskill Mountains. Un- 


6 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


doubtedly he is a handsome hoy, hut he is more than 
that. Those hrown eyes look straight at you ; that hig 
sunhumed paw gives a hearty squeeze ; honesty and 
truth and self-dependence are written in every line of 
his face. His shoulders are so well thrown hack, his 
carriage so erect, that the Cairo hoys, couphng his 
appearance with his name, call him Sir Miles Standish. 

“ I was just looking over some of your father’s 
papers, Gil,” she answers, turning her eyes again toward 
the parchment. 

“ Now, mother, don’t you try to pull the wool over 
my eyes,” Gil laughs. “ Can’t I see that that’s one of 
the Spanish deeds you have And don’t I know that 
you can’t read a single word of Spanish ? ” 

“ Why, yes I can, Gil,” his mother protests, holding 
the paper to the light. “ See here, ‘ Senor don George 
W. Standish, y Senor don William J. Standish.’ That 
comes in several times, and I can read every word of it 
and understand it, all hut the ‘y,’ which must mean 
‘ and,’ I suppose.” 

“Yes, the ‘y’ means ‘and,’” Gil assents, “though it 
is pronounced like our ‘e.’ It’s a good thing Uncle 
William J. taught Rose and me to speak and read 
Spanish like natives, or we might never know what was 
in the deeds at all.” 

He stops long enough to draw another chair from 
the pile of broken furniture, and seats himself by his 
mother’s side. 


HARD TIMES IN CAIRO. 


17 

“ But you didn’t come up here to read about ‘ Sefior 
don George W. Standish,’ mother,” he goes on. Gil’s 
voice and manner alone are enough to cheer a despond- 
ent person, for he is always good-humored and happy. 
“You never come up among the garret ghosts unless 
you have a fit of the blues. I’ve always noticed that.” 

“ Why, Gil ! ” his mother protests, looking at him as 
innocently as if she hardly knew what he meant by 
“ the blues.” “ I want to know all about these papers, 
for the future doesn’t look bright, and it seems as if 
we must get something out of all this property.” 

“Well, we’re rich enough in property,” Gil laughs, 
“ though we don’t get enough out of it to buy our salt. 
But I don’t see why you should say the future doesn’t 
look bright, for I think it is very promising. There 
can be no doubt that we actually own this big coffee 
estate in Cuba — several good lawyers gave Uncle 
William J. that opinion. It would be very little use 
to us just now, even if we had it, with the rebellion 
going on in Cuba. But the rebellion can’t last always, 
and then things will be changed down there. Besides, 
by that time I’ll be old enough to know something, and 
I can go down and look after it. 

“Ah, but it’s not the coffee estate that’s worrying 
my little mother just now,” he goes on, winding his big 
arm around her waist. “It’s hard times and lack of 
money in the Standish family. Don’t I hear them 
talking about hard times in the stores.^ and don’t I 


c 


8 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


know that in bad times the farmers can’t pay the inter- 
est on their mortgages, so the Standishes must go with- 
out.? Yes, I know what’s on the little mother’s mind, 
and it makes me sore enough to think that such a hulk 
of a fellow as I am should be eating the beef without 
sense enough to earn some more. To be sure I did 
work down at Jason’s store as long as there was any 
work to do ; but times are bad there too, and there 
ain’t many people in Cairo at this time of year.” 

“You shan’t say a word against yourself,” his mother 
interrupts, with great decision. “You’re the most in- 
dustrious boy in the world. You’ve never had a 
chance.” 

“ Because I’ve never made one, mother,” Gil answers, 
looking much more serious than before. “ But I know 
how things stand, for I have eyes in my head ; and I 
have made up my mind to this : I am big enough now, 
and this summer Fm going to take care of the family.” 

“Oh, Gil! ” his mother cries, throwing an arm about 
his neck ; “ you wouldn’t go away and leave me I ” 

“There might come a time,” he replies, quite seri- 
ously, “ when we should both think it best for me to 
go away for a while. But that is not what I mean 
now. If you consent to my plan, I am going to make 
some money this summer by taking boarders.” 

“ Boarders ! ” Mrs. George W. cries, throwing up her 
hands. “ Oh, Gil, I am not strong enough to take 
boarders.” 


HARD TIMES IN CAIRO. 


19 


“ I don’t want you to take them, mother,” Gil laughs, 
and wouldn’t let you do it if I could help it, nor 
Aunt Ellen either. But I can take them myself, with 
some help from Rose, if you will let me.” 

“ My dear boy,” Mrs. George W. expostulates, I’m 
afraid you don’t know what it means to take boarders. 
The house is not large enough, to begin with. And 
we cannot afford just now to buy the furniture we 
should need.” 

“ I have thought it all out,” Gil persists. “ The old 
folding bed will be my bed in the attic. If you and 
Aunt Ellen and Rose can make out for a few months 
in the big back room, we will have three sleeping- 
rooms to spare. Some of this old furniture can be 
repaired, and what we must buy I can get a few 
months’ credit for. Rose and I can get the house 
ready, if she will help ; and you know I am a pretty 
good cook. 

“ I don’t see why we shouldn’t do it,” he continues. 
“You know nearly every one in Cairo takes summer 
boarders, and the hotels are always full. It is a good 
place on account of the fine view of the. mountains, 
and people make money at it. Why not we as well 
as the rest ? ” 

Before Mrs. George W. can reply, more footsteps 
are heard downstairs, and a voice calling : — 

“ Mary ! Mary ! where in the world are you ? ” 

“ Here in the attic,” Mrs. George W. calls in answer. 


20 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Come up, you and Rose, and hear what Gil has been 
saying to me.” 

There is a heavy tread upon the stairs, and in a 
few moments Mrs. William J. appears. She is taller 
than Gil’s mother, and very much stouter, and the 
climb makes her pant. Immediately behind her is 
her daughter Rose, the finest girl of fourteen in the 
Catskills, as Gil sometimes says and always believes. 
His description of her would be far too flowery ; but 
she is, in fact, a bright and healthy and well-grown 
girl, as full of good nature as her cousin, with a wealth 
of flowing hair and hazel eyes that give promise, at 
least, of helping her to grow into a very pretty young 
lady. 

Gil promptly gives his own chair to his aunt and 
draws out another for his cousin Rose; and Mrs. 
George W., seeing greater possibilities in the boarder 
project than she has so far admitted, loses no time 
in getting Mrs. William J.’s opinion of it. 

“ Gil has just been proposing that we take summer 
boarders,” she says. “ He is to sleep in the attic, and 
we three will have the big back room. He and Rose 
are to do most of the work. What do you think of it? ” 

“ What fun ! ” Rose cries, clapping her hands. “ We 
will do all the work.” 

“ Gil has more sense than any of us,” Mrs. William J. 
answers, mopping her round face with her handker- 
chief, but smiling through it all ; “ though to tell the 


HARD TIMES IN CAIRO. 


21 


truth I have thought of it myself. We’re in need of 
money just now, so why not go to work and earn it 
like anybody else.? But those two children do the 
work .? Do tell ! We’ll all help at it. Sit still, Rose ; 
you make me nervous.” 

Gil and his cousin are exchanging glances at a furi- 
ous rate, showing that they are excellent friends. Gil 
is about to explain his plans again, when a loud knock- 
ing is heard at the front door. 

“Must be that Miss Prout, about that mission box. 
We’d better go down, Ellen,” Mrs. George W. says. 
“ The young boarding-house keepers can fold away the 
papers and put the trunk back in place.” 


CHAPTER IL 

A CUBAN COFFEE PLANTATION. 

HEN the two cousins were left alone together in 



V V the attic, Gil’s first act was just what any of his 
friends would have predicted. He went to the rocking- 
chair his mother had occupied, drew it to a better place 
in the light, shook up the cushion, and insisted that 
Rose should sit in it. 

This was characteristic of his constant treatment of 
Rose. In his opinion the Princess of Wales or the Em- 
press of Russia would have been honored by knowing 
her, and he never was able to do quite as much for her 
as he thought he should. That she should carry a pail 
of water or do an errand when he was about was not to 
be thought of. The difference of several years in their 
ages would have made it natural for him to consider 
himself the leader and superior in their little affairs, 
but the fact was quite the contrary. He not only asked 
her opinion upon all occasions, but believed in it and 
acted upon it. They were as much chums as any two 
boys could have been, the only difference being that in 
this case one chum made it his business to take all the 


22 


A CUBAN COFFEE PLANTATION. 


23 


hard knocks and unpleasant things to himself, smooth- 
ing the way always for the other. 

No one knew as well as Gil himself why he held so 
high an opinion of his cousin. It was not only because 
they had been thrown together like brother and sister ; 
not only because family affairs had given them things 
in common that even brother and sister do not often 
have. It was more because Rose was, in Gil’s forcible 
language, “ a brick.” He admired her sturdy character, 
her readiness to deny herself for others, and her pure 
grit. No walk that he could take was too long for 
her, no mountain climb too steep. If she had been 
a “ missy ” girl, he would certainly have been kind to 
her, but he could not have adopted her for a chum. 

“That is a great idea of yours, taking summer 
boarders, Gil,” she began. “ Everybody says it is 
hard work, but I guess you and I can work as hard as 
any one. Both our mothers think well of it, I know ; 
and you may be sure I will do my part.” 

Gil was on his knees in front of the trunk, straighten- 
ing the books and papers that his mother had dis- 
arranged, and he turned to Rose and told her that it 
was no part of his plan that she should have any of the 
hard work to do. Their mothers would not believe 
that such a thing could be done without a woman’s 
hand at the helm, and for that reason alone he had 
spoken of her. 

Simple a thing as this was to say, it would have 


24 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


surprised any one who chanced to overhear it, because 
Gil spoke entirely in Spanish ; and when Rose an- 
swered she used the same language. They were 
both natives of Greene County and both good Ameri- 
cans without any foreign mixture in their blood, but 
they were as familiar with Spanish as with English, 
and when alone often used the Spanish language to 
keep in practice. 

For five or ten minutes they discussed the summer- 
boarder plan, continuing to use the foreign tongue. 
Then Gil stood up to push the trunk back to its place 
under the eaves, holding out his hand for the papers 
that Rose had been smoothing and folding. 

“ I wish you would explain these things to me, Gil,” 
she said, looking at the folded deeds instead of hand- 
ing them to him. It always seems so strange to me 
that you and I should be the only boy and girl in Cairo 
who can speak Spanish. I never saw any one else 
who could, except papa. And it is /queer that we 
should have all these • Spanish account books and 
deeds and papers in the attic, when none of us have 
ever been beyond the shadow of the mountains in our 
lives. Of course I have heard of the coffee plantation 
in Cuba, but I never quite understood it. Do you know 
all about it?” 

“Yes, I think I understand it pretty well,” Gil 
replied. “Your father told me all about it over and 
over, and very carefully, so that I must remember. 


A CUBAN COFFEE PLANTATION. 


25 


You see I was so much older than you that I could 
remember it better. He said he knew that he was — 
that he wasn’t going to live long, and that it would lie 
with me some day to see the wrong righted, so I must 
understand it thoroughly. I suppose you didn’t know 
at the time why he made you learn Spanish, when you 
were so young. He said that I must learn it, because 
I could not do much in Cuba without knowing the lan- 
guage ; and that unless I had somebody to talk to after 
he was — if anything happened to him, I would soon 
forget it. So you had to learn too ; and that’s the way 
we came to know it so well; for he spoke it like a 
native, and took great pains to teach us. So there’s 
one mystery cleared away. You know now why we 
are the only boy and girl in Cairo who can speak 
Spanish.” 

“Yes, I understand that part of it,” Rose replied. 
“ But why did you have to speak Spanish } What 
were we doing with a coffee plantation in Cuba } And 
where did it go to .»* ” 

“Ah, that’s one of the queer things that I under- 
stand happen sometimes in this world ! ” Gil laughed. 
“You see our grandfather Standish (for he was your 
grandfather and mine too) owned the old farm that we 
still have a claim on, and when he died he left it to his 
two sons, George W., my father, and William J., your 
father. That’s plain, isn’t it? So here we have our 
two fathers, both very young men, owning the old farm. 


26 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


‘‘Very well. My father was satisfied to stay here 
among the mountains and be a farmer, but yours 
wasn’t. Your father went to New York and became a 
clerk for a big importing house, and then a bookkeeper, 
and after a while a junior partner. The folks thought 
that was very grand, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy 
your father. He was full of pluck and daring, just like 
you ; and he was always on the watch to improve his 
affairs. 

“ One day the chance came, as he thought. His 
firm did a big business with the West Indies, and in 
that way he learned about a fine coffee plantation in 
Cuba, near Santiago, that had to be sold. It was mak- 
ing money, but the owner was involved in other affairs 
and had lost, and the estate had to go, and was sure 
to be sold cheap. So your father went down there to 
investigate. 

“To make a long story short, he bought it. It was a 
very large plantation, about seven thousand acres, and 
even at a quarter its value it took a lot of money to buy 
it. He explained all about it to my father, and they went 
into partnership. Your father had saved some money 
by that time, and so had mine, and for the rest they 
mortgaged the farm. Why, what’s the matter. Rose.? 
You look as if you were going to a funeral.” 

“ I begin to feel so, Gil,” she replied. “ Was it my 
father’s fault that so much money was lost in the coffee 
plantation .? ” 


A CUBAN COFFEE PLANTATION. 


27 


^‘Nobody was at fault,” Gil was quick to answer; 
“ and we don’t know yet that any money has been lost. 
Wait till you hear about it. About all the money our 
two fathers could raise went into the plantation, and 
the firm was George W. and William J. Standish. 
That was after they were both married ; but your father 
never took you and your mother to Cuba. When he 
left New York you came up to the farm to live with us. 

“ Well, that was the beginning of changed times in 
the Standish family. Your father went to Cuba alone 
to manage the plantation, and mine stayed at home to 
manage the farm. For a year or two there was noth- 
ing made, and then the folks began to feel rich. They 
say the way money came up from the plantation for a 
few seasons was enough to make your mouth water.” 

“Oh, my!” Rose exclaimed. “Just think of it! 
I never knew of people getting in money so fast it 
surprised them ; it’s generally the other way. Let’s 
try to imagine it’s still coming, and that all these trunks 
and boxes are full of doubloons and pieces of eight ! ” 

“ That couldn’t last, you know,” Gil went on. “ Such 
things never do, I suppose. When you begin to think 
you’re well off, is just the time to look out for a drop. 
And the drop came for the Standish family, at a great 
rate. First father fell sick, and we came in from the 
farm and bought this place in the village, to be near 
the doctor. You and your mother came too, but I 
guess you were too young to remember it. Then bad 


28 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


news began to come from your father. The present 
insurrection was just breaking out, and the insurgents, 
as they call them, made demands on him for food and 
money; and he had to pay, too, or they would have 
destroyed his crops. 

“ That was only the beginning. Father’s complaint 
was not helped any, I guess, by the troubles, and be- 
fore long we laid him away in the cemetery up on the 
Durham road. Then word came that the Spanish gov- 
ernment had seized the plantation, on the ground that 
your father had been giving assistance to the rebels. 
That was pretty hard, because he had nothing to do 
with it, and only gave them something to save the rest 
of his property. But what could he do ? They had the 
power, and they took possession. 

“ It never rains but it pours,” Gil continued. “ Next 
came the news that your father had been driven off 
the place, and was dying with yellow fever in Santiago. 
Then no news at all for weeks. Ah, those were dread- 
ful times, and I’m glad you were too young to know 
much about them. We waited and waited, and cabled 
without getting any answer. Your mother was almost 
crazy, when one day there came a telegram from your 
father, saying that he had landed in New York and 
was on his way home. Sure enough, the Catskill stage 
drove up next day, and he got out. You must remem- 
ber that day, I guess, and how we hardly knew him, he 
was so thin and yellow and old-looking. He could 


A CUBAN COFFEE PLANTATION. 


29 


scarcely walk, but he managed to get home, and bring 
this trunk along filled with his papers. 

“ That was the day this black trunk came into the 
house, and here it has been ever since. So instead of 
a plantation we had a claim ; and claims don’t pay 
very large interest. I’ve noticed. There was no doubt 
about the claim, for all the lawyers said so. The worst 
of it was your father was so broken down by the fever 
that the doctors said he could not possibly live long, 
and he was in a hurry to get his affairs settled. The 
only way, the lawyers said, was to get our government 
to make a claim on the Spaniards, because your father 
was an American citizen. He was hardly able to travel, 
but your mother went with him to Washington to see 
the Secretary of State. 

“Such a thing is always slow work,” Gil went on, 
“ but in this case it was slower than ever. They said 
it was certainly a good claim, because the place had 
been taken by force, without process of law. But Cuba 
was in such an unsettled state it was impossible to do 
anything with it then. He must wait till the rebellion 
was over. If the insurgents won, he might get the 
estate back without much trouble ; and if the Spaniards 
won, they must give it up or pay for it. But anyhow 
he must wait.” 

“ Wasn’t that mean ! ” Rose interrupted ; “ and papa 
so sick he knew he couldn’t live long. I’d like to get 
a chance at those nasty Spaniards some day.” 


30 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Some day we may get our rights,” Gil continued. 
“ But you see how helpless that left your father. He 
could do nothing till the Cuban rebellion was over, and 
that might last for several years. I am sure he did not 
expect to live that long, and his only hope was to have 
some of us understand the case thoroughly, so that 
when the time came we could assert our rights. I was 
about twelve then, and he just set to work at me and 
drilled all the facts into me, and made me learn to 
speak and write Spanish. 

“ My, how hard he did work with me ! A man 
can do a lot of work when he has one important thing 
to do before he dies. Don’t cry, Rosie dear ; that’s 
all over now.” 

“ I’m not crying for that ! ” Rose retorted, in a 
voice that gave Gil a start. “I’m not crying at all.” 
And she was not, either; but she was grating her 
teeth. “ Those cheating Spaniards ! My, how I wish 
I were a man ! ” 

“You are, Rose,” Gil declared. “At least you 
are more of a man than any other girl I ever saw. 
But you were too young then for your father to 
leave you such an important charge, so he turned to 
me. ‘Gil,’ he said to me one day, -‘you’re a good 
deal of a man for your age.’ (He was mistaken, but 
that was what he said.) ‘ But I want you to be still 
more of a man from this minute, for you have a 
man’s work before you. In a short time I shall be 


A CUBAN COFFEE PLANTATION. 


31 


gone, and you will soon be the head of the family : 
and you are the one who must get our property back. 
To do that you must know all about the case, and I 
am going to drill it into you like a lesson at school. 
You will not understand it now, but you will when 
you grow older.’ ” 

“ That’s what they tell me about so many things,” 
Rose interrupted. “ I wonder how old I shall have 
to be before I understand about business, and deeds, 
and coffee plantations.” 

No levity, senorita ! ” Gil protested, pretending 
to be very severe. ‘‘ He told me that I must not 
only know the whole story, but must know the mean- 
ing of all the deeds and papers. And, besides that, 
I must know the Spanish language, or I never could 
make any headway in Cuba. And more than that, 
you must learn Spanish, too, so that we could talk 
together. ‘ No matter if you have to give up all your 
other studies,’ he told me, ‘ I’m going to give you both 
a good working knowledge of the Spanish language, 
if I have to whale it into you with a hickory gad.” 

“ I have a sort of a dim recollection,” said Rose, 
blushing a little, that he kept his word about that.” 

He kept his word about everything,” Gil contin- 
ued. “That is why we know more about Spanish 
than we could learn in almost any school. He not 
only taught us the language of the people, but their 
customs ; so that I could go to Cuba to-morrow and 


32 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


mix with the people without being taken for an Ameri- 
can. 

“ Then there is a chance that some day we may get 
the plantation back, or the value of it?” Rose asked. 

“ More than a chance, I think,” Gil replied. “ But not 
till the Cuban rebellion is ended. We must wait, and 
while we are waiting we need not be idle. Now you 
know the whole story of the black trunk and its con- 
tents, senorita ; and remember that you are my partner 
in the boarding-house business.” 

“Yes, and in the plantation business, too,” Rose re- 
torted. “ And if ever you have a chance to repay the 
Spaniards for the way they have wronged us, I shall be 
your partner there also.” 


CHAPTER III. 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS.’* 

T he Standish house stands well back from the main 
street in Cairo, a little to the eastward of the Pres- 
byterian Church and on the opposite side. It is a 
wooden house like every other dwelling in the place 
except two, which are built of brick. There is a large 
lawn in front and at the side — or what would be a lawn 
if it were not for the big oak trees, which give it a dark 
shade and prevent the grass from doing its best. The 
easiest way to find the place in going down the street 
is just to ask for the Timbury house. Old Mrs. Tim- 
bury lived and died in it, and Gil’s father bought it from 
her distant heirs, and it still goes by the old name. 

It was built long before New Yorkers discovered 
Cairo and made it a place for summer holidays ; but if 
it had been designed for the purpose it could hardly be 
better arranged for the accommodation of a few board- 
ers. There is a piazza across the front, from which a 
door opens at the left-hand side into a broad hall, and 
to the right of this is the parlor. But when you go 
back of the parlor and hall the house broadens con- 

33 


D 


34 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


siderably, jutting out eight or ten feet on each side, and 
so giving space for two fine large rooms, one of which 
is devoted to sitting and the other to dining. Still far- 
ther back is the kitchen, so large that a family coach 
might be kept in it, and so clean, like most Cairo 
kitchens, that you must step carefully over the well- 
scrubbed floor. And between dining room and kitchen 
a series of pantries and closets, and everything through- 
out as snug and handy as it can possibly be made with- 
out those things we have come to call “ the modern 
conveniences.” In Cairo you need not stop to wonder 
which is the hot-water spigot and which the cold, for 
water comes only from the well, and that is always cold. 
And in the absence of gas no one has ever yet been 
asphyxiated. 

This knowledge of the lower floor will give you an 
easy clue to the upper. There is a big front room over 
the parlor, of course, with an alcove over the hall ; and 
two good rooms over the dining and sitting rooms, with 
a hall between ; and a big, sunny room over the kitchen, 
with windows overlooking the green meadows at the 
back, and, far away, the big county almshouse, and in 
the distance the dark mountain peaks. And the house 
is painted the lightest of light browns, with edgings a 
shade or two darker, and green blinds to the windows. 
A gable in the roof, I must not neglect to say, faces 
toward the front, with a small window in it — the attic 
window, near which the black trunk stands. And the 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS. 


35 


cornice is broad and flat, giving the house a solid 
appearance. And in front of all is a picket fence, 
also painted light brown. And about the whole place 
nothing is hanging loose or going to ruin ; for Gil has 
a hammer and saw and some other tools, and knows 
how to use them. If the Standishes are pressed for 
ready money, they do not advertise the fact to the 
neighbors. 

But it would be a waste of energy to advertise any 
personal affairs in Cairo, where, as in most small 
towns, the public knows all your concerns, and more. 
Mrs. George W. and Mrs. William J. had hardly come 
to a decision before it was noised about in the stores 
and discussed in the sewing circle that “ the Standishes 
were going to take summer boarders.” It took just 
twenty-four hours for the whole town to know the news. 
On the day after his talk with Rose, Gil went down to 
Jason’s to make some inquiries. 

“ I may be wanting to buy a little furniture,” he 
said, “ and to buy it on credit, if I can. This is my 
speculation, mind you, not my mother’s, and I’m to 
pay the bill myself. I am thinking of taking some 
boarders this coming summer.” 

There was not the least doubt in his mind that 
Jason would have whatever he needed, for Jason’s 
is celebrated for keeping everything. There are other 
stores in Cairo, but none with half the reputation of 
Jason’s, down by the bridge. It has been written 


36 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

about in magazines, and visited by antiquarians, and 
for half a century has been known as the place “ where 
you can buy anything, from a tombstone to a fire 
engine.” It is the veritable store where an incredulous 
stranger once, thinking to ask for an impossible thing, 
inquired for a church pulpit. “Yes,” said Jason, 
“ I bought one when they tore down the old church. 
Step this way.” It was not Jason himself, but Jason’s 
son D. K. (Cairo being wonderfully fond of initials) 
whom Gil approached. 

“That’s all right, Gil,” D. K. readily answered. 
“You can have whatever you want.” 

“ Well, I’ll tell you what arrangement I want to 
make about paying,” Gil went on. “ I never owed 
anything before, but it looks as if I should have to 
this time. If I do well with the boarders, I will pay 
you within three months ; but if I don’t, you must 
give me three months more to earn the money in.” 

“All right, Gil,” D. K. repeated. “Take whatever 
you want, and pay for it when you can. And I 
shouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t know you, you may 
be sure.” 

It was from this brief conversation that the news 
flashed around Cairo like a message over the wires. 
Jason’s has its habitual loungers, like the other stores, 
and they whispered it at home and in public places, 
and the ladies talked it over, and by the next morning 
Miss Mary Miller, an estimable maiden lady in specta- 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS.” 37 

cles, was so interested that she determined to learn all 
the particulars, and to that end went to the Standish 
front door and rang the bell. 

“ Good morning, Miss Mary,” said Gil, as he an- 
swered the summons. He was without coat or hat, 
his sleeves were rolled up, and his face was flushed 
with work. “ We’re a httle torn up this morning ; 
getting ready for boarders. Step right into the parlor, 
won’t you, and see Rose. She’s up a step ladder 
helping me scrape off the old paper, but she’ll be glad 
to see you just the same.” 

“ I want to know ! ” Miss Miller exclaimed, as she 
stepped into the dismantled room. “And you at it 
too. Rose ? I heard tell you were going to take 
boarders, but I didn’t know you were getting ready. 
And where’s Mrs. George W . } ” 

“We’re all at the same work,” Rose laughed, as 
she jumped down from the ladder. It did not dis- 
concert her in the least that she wore her very oldest 
dress and had a towel tied over her head. “ Mother 
and Aunt Mary are upstairs, scrubbing. Come into 
the sitting room, and I’ll call them.” 

When her mother and aunt came down and Rose 
returned to the parlor, she and Gil could not help hear- 
ing the conversation in the sitting room, for all the 
doors stood open. 

“Yes,” they heard Mrs. George W. say, “we’re 
really getting ready to take boarders. Hate to do it ? 


38 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

No, indeed, I am just delighted to do it. It is Gil’s 
idea entirely — and I am so glad he took the notion. 
You see he has been fretting for several years about 
not having anything to do, — anything to bring in 
money, I mean, — and I was so afraid that this year he 
would want to go away somewhere. I’m sure it’s much 
better to take boarders than have Gil go and leave 
us.' 

“ And do you know he wanted to do everything him- 
self } ” Mrs. William J. interrupted, “ with just a little 
help from Rose. That was the plan he made. But 
we’d hardly be likely to let him do that. Now that 
we have made up our minds to it we’re all at it hammer 
and tongs. Mary and I are cleaning the three front 
bedrooms upstairs, and Gil and Rose are preparing to 
paper and paint the parlor. Gil is a great hand at 
papering, and Rose can paint as well as a man.” 

Scrape, scrape, scrape, went the old table knives 
over the parlor walls, taking off the old paper. With 
a clean whitewash brush and a pail of hot water Gil 
had soaked it till it came off readily, and the rolls 
of bright new paper lay on the sitting-room table. 

“ But, sakes alive, where are you. going to get your 
help.^” Miss Miller asked. ‘‘Good help’s so scarce 
in Cairo.” 

“ Help ! ” Mrs. George W. laughed. “ What do we 
want with help? You don’t know Gil and Rose, I 
guess. And there’s not one of us in the house but’s 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS. 


39 


a good cook. Gil can cook as nice a meal as any 
woman in Greene County, and so can the rest of us. 
We’re not going to take boarders and be afraid to 
work, Miss Mary. We’ll take them because we need 
a little money ; no other reason in the world ; not 
because we ‘want a little company in the house,’ as 
some folks pretend.” 

Their hard work met with many interruptions that 
morning. One of the callers was Bob Tulley, a par- 
ticular friend of Gil, who dropped his fishing-pole on 
the grass and rang the bell. 

“ Hello, Gil ! ” was his greeting when the door was 
opened. “ Oh, pshaw ! you ain’t at work, are you ? 
Say, can’t you drop it a little while and come down to 
the deep hole ? There’s no time like these April morn- 
ings for catching suckers, and we needn’t be gone more 
than an hour or two.” 

“ Can’t be done ! ” Gil laughed. “ I’m afraid my 
fishing is laid on the shelf for this season — I mean 
I hope it is. We’re getting ready to take boarders ; 
and if we have any sort of success. I’ll not have any 
time to spare this summer.” 

“ Well, I know there’s no use talking to you if you’re 
busy,” Bob answered disappointedly, and went on 
down the street with his pole. 

There was an interval presently when the paper 
was all off and the newly scrubbed floors upstairs were 
drying, when the whole family went up into the attic 


40 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


to look over the discarded furniture. In a few minutes 
the larger pieces were spread about for inspection. 
One bedstead was perfect except for a broken upright 
that the cabinet-maker could make as good as new, 
and there never had been anything the matter with the 
springs. The old lounge, that some boarder might be 
so glad to have in the bedroom for an afternoon nap, 
needed nothing but a new cover, which Mrs. William J. 
was sure she could give it. Various things that had 
long been out of use required only a screw here or a 
little glue there, such simple matters that Gil could 
mend them himself. It was surprising to find how good 
most of the old furniture was, and how much better it 
looked than when it was discarded. 

Every day the house looked better and brighter, and 
every day Gil expostulated with mother, aunt, and 
cousin for doing so much work themselves instead of 
leaving more for him. The parlor shone in its new 
paper and fresh paint. The bedrooms were as clean 
as new pins, and the paint touched up wherever it 
needed it. And when the furniture was in place, and 
it came to arranging the little things and making the 
rooms look as little like boarding-house rooms as possi- 
ble, Gil had to admit that women’s hands were better 
than his own. He could put up the bedsteads and drag 
around the bureaus, but after he had struggled for half 
an hour with placing the fancy things on a dressing- 
case the general effect was, as he expressed it, “ as if 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS.” 4I 

it had been struck by lightning,” and Rose had to go 
to his rescue. 

After all, there were not as many things to be bought 
as they had feared. A single bedstead and a mattress 
for it, a mattress for one of the big beds, a bureau, and 
a comfortable rocking-chair for each of the three rooms, 
that was all, except that the stock of linen had to be 
replenished. The whole bill amounted to a trifle less 
than fifty dollars; and Gil was surprised to find that 
from the moment he bought the goods there was a 
weight upon his mind. He actually owed fifty dollars ! 
He had never owed a cent to any one before ; and if he 
had not been working so hard, the thought of it would 
have kept him awake at night in his broken folding 
bed, now mended, up in the attic. Fifty dollars to be 
paid in three months ; and suppose the boarders failed 
to come ! 

Making a house ready for summer boarders is a 
matter easy to describe, but the work is not done so 
easily or so quickly. April passed, and more than half 
of May, before they felt that everything was in com- 
plete order. Even then there was still some work to 
do in the yard, but it was time to make some effort to 
catch the golden birds that were to occupy the snug 
cage they had prepared. There was no doubt about 
the means to be used, for every cage-keeper in Cairo 
catches his birds in the same way, — by advertising in 
the New York newspapers. But it lay with Gil to 


42 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


write the advertisement; and that was a far harder 
task than papering the parlor. 

With pad and pencil he went up to the attic, to have 
perfect quiet for his first venture in literature ; and if 
all the advertisements he wrote only to be torn off and 
crumpled up had been printed and paid for, they would 
have eaten up the profits of the entir-e season. Some 
were too flowery, others too dreadfully plain. But 
there was no danger of his giving up what he under- 
took, and after a tremendous mental strain he produced 
one that seemed to describe the situation : — 

“ Cairo. — Three large sunny rooms in private house, 
with good home cooking. Large grounds and beautiful 
mountain views. Terms reasonable. — Gilbert Stand- 
ish, Cairo, N.Y.” 

That brief notice, having been not only approved but 
highly complimented by the rest of the family, was 
mailed to the New York Daily Newsletter^ with the 
necessary money order enclosed, and arrived in due 
time in lines of real print. Rose having spent much of 
the time meanwhile wondering whefher their boarders 
would be real nice people with a girl about her own 
age, and Gil having given his attention to the front 
and side yard, which he raked up so clean that hardly 
a blade of grass was out of place, and put the front 
walk in order. 

Then followed a few days of anxious waiting for 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS.” 43 

letters on Gil’s part, but no letters came, except a few 
announcements from other newspapers, telling how 
cheaply they would print that advertisement, and how 
large their circulation was. 

“ I thought you were going to take boarders this 
summer.?” Bob Tulley asked on one of these days, 
without the least intention to be sarcastic. 

“So we are,” Gil answered, “if we can get any. 
They haven’t come yet.” 

“Why, nearly every place is full,” Bob went on. 
“ They’re turning people away over at Walters’s 
Hotel.” 

Gil knew that only too well, for he kept his eyes 
open. Not only the hotels, but most of the private 
boarding-houses were full. He gave a laughing answer, 
for he was not one to show the anxiety he felt, but he 
could not help thinking that the whole art of keeping 
boarders did not consist in getting the house ready. 
And all the while the load of a fifty-dollar debt weighed 
upon his shoulders. 

One day there came a ray of hope, when a lady and 
gentleman walked over from the Walters Hotel to 
look at rooms. Mrs. William J., who opened the door 
for them, was ready to show everything to the very 
best advantage, but they would not even go upstairs. 
As there were no other boarders, it would not do at all. 
They had a grown daughter, and must be in a lively 
place where she would have company. 


44 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Well, we must make the best of it,” Mrs. George W. 
began to say. “If nobody comes, we can pay that little 
furniture bill somehow ; and the house is all in good 
order, whatever happens.” 

“ Now don’t you be getting discouraged, mother,” 
Gil answered to this. “ Nobody can build up a good 
business in a day. We are sure to get boarders sooner 
or later.” And this very last time he tried to comfort 
his mother, he added, “ Like as not there’s a letter in 
the post-office now. I’m going to walk down and see.” 

It hardly needed the letter in his hand as he came 
running back, to show that he had at least heard from 
some one ; his pleased expression was enough to show 
that. 

“ I don’t know,” he answered to Rose’s eager ques- 
tions, “whether it is going to amount to anything or 
not, but here is certainly a letter from some one who is 
looking for board.” 

He took the letter out and read it aloud without 
delay, for his mother and Aunt Ellen were quite as 
anxious as Rose. 

“ International Navigation Company, American Line, 
Red Star Line,” he read : “ General Superintendent’s 
office, H. G. Merrifield, General Superintendent, New 
York, May 28, 1896. 

“ Dear Sir : Are the rooms still vacant that you 
advertised a short time ago.^ And if so, what are 


PREPARING TO “TAKE BOARDERS. 


45 


your terms per week for self and wife, boy and 
girl ? 

“ Please reply immediately ; and if rooms vacant, 
and terms satisfactory, will visit your place next 
Monday to look at them. 

“ Yours truly, 

“ H. G. Merrifield.” 

Here was Gil’s first opportunity for really doing busi- 
ness. Before, there had been nothing but preparation, 
but this was a possible customer. What prices should 
be charged had been talked over often and carefully, 
and ten dollars a week had been determined upon, and 
six dollars for children. That was high for Cairo, 
where board is cheap ; but they wisely thought that 
by charging reasonably well, and giving the full value 
of the money in good rooms and good board, they would 
secure a better class of customers. 

“ I’m glad we determined to charge a fair price and 
make it worth the money,” Gil said, as he sat down to 
answer the letter at once. “ The superintendent of a 
big steamship line can’t think ten dollars a week very 
high, and he might turn up his nose at it if it was too 
cheap.” 

It was a matter of great importance to them, he 
thought, the answer to that letter. But if he had 
known how vast the importance ; how the letter, with 
its consequences, was to change the whole course of his 


46 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


life and the circumstances of the family, his hand 
might have shaken a little as he held the pen. For- 
tunately he could not foresee that. To be able to 
see into the future would bring us far more pain than 
pleasure. 


CHAPTER IV. 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 

B y the middle of August the Standish family had 
settled down wonderfully well into the business, or 
perhaps the fine art, of keeping boarders ; and it cer- 
tainly looked for a time as if Gil might make that his 
permanent occupation. Mr. Merrifield and his family 
were the only boarders, and there was room for no 
more, for they occupied all three of the rooms. 

The labor was well divided, and moved like clock- 
work. Gil’s proposition that all the hard work should 
fall upon him had been laughed to scorn at the begin- 
ning, and everybody lent a hand. Mrs. George W. and 
Mrs. William J. were the cooks. Rose took care of the 
rooms, and Gil was steward, butler, head waiter, and 
general provider. Besides all their other duties, he and 
Rose washed the dishes and kept the silver and glass- 
ware bright. No hotel in the whole Catskills had a 
better corps of “ help,” and the boarders appreciated it. 

Several things had happened by that time that led 
Mr. Merrifield to take more than a passing interest in 
Gil — all small things, but all, as it proved, of some 
importance. One of the first of these came about 

47 


48 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


through Gil’s insisting that he should wait upon the 
table ; and with the open doors of summer and the 
thin walls of a country house, Mr. Merrifield accidentally 
overheard the conversation. 

“Yes, that must be my work,” Gil asserted. “You 
and Aunt Ellen will be busy in the kitchen, and Rose 
has enough to do. The waiting falls to me, and I am 
going to do it.” 

“ But the idea of my boy being a waiter in a board- 
ing-house ! ” Mrs. George W. protested. 

“ My mother seems to be a cook in a boarding- 
house,” Gil laughed ; “ so why should I be too proud 
to be the waiter ? That’s all nonsense. I should be 
ashamed to be too good for my business. I’m going 
to be the waiter, and I’ll try to be a good one.” 

Buying the provisions for a family of eight was not 
a small part of the work, in a village where there are 
no markets, and that all fell to Gil. The neighboring 
farmers turn themselves into peddlers in the summer, 
and make daily rounds of the hotels and boarding- 
houses with their wagons, selling poultry, butter, ber- 
ries, vegetables, whatever they can produce ; and it did 
not take them long to learn that there were boarders 
at the Timbury house. 

“ Can I sell you some butter this morning } ” one 
of them asked, standing on the side steps. He had 
left his wagon by the side of the street, and walked 
in with a sample pail. 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


49 


“ Is it good butter ? ” Gil asked. 

'‘Just what you want for boarders,” the man an- 
swered, with a sly wink. “ Not the very tip-topest, 
of course ; but it’s only eighteen cents a pound, and 
you can’t get it at the stores for less than twenty-two. 
I sell it to nearly every house in town.” 

“ Aha ! ” said Mr. Merrifield to himself, quietly 
reading his paper behind his closed blinds upstairs ; 
“that’s one of the tricks of the trade, is it! Let’s 
see what our young landlord has to say to that.” 

“ That won’t do at all,” Gil promptly said. “ I 
might just as well go upstairs and take the money 
out of my boarders’ pockets. If you had some first- 
rate butter. I’d like to have forty or fifty pounds ; but I 
don’t use any other kind.” 

“ Ah, you’re new at the business, that’s plain,” the 
man laughed. “You’ll change your mind before you’ve 
kept boarders many years.” 

“ Then I’ll change my business if I do,” Gil re- 
torted, as he went into the house ; and Mr. Merrifield 
smiled quietly to himself. 

It was about the middle of July that two important 
things happened in one day. In the morning Gil 
got the family purse from his mother, and finding 
more than a hundred dollars nestling in its folds, he 
took out forty-eight dollars and fifty cents, and walked 
down to Jason’s and paid his bill in full. That was 
not exactly a weight lifted from his mind, for he had 


50 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


known for some time that there was more than enough 
on hand to pay it; but it gave him a comfortable 
feeling to know that his first and only debt was paid ; 
and when he returned and heard young Sidney Mer- 
rifield coaxing his father to take him fishing, he thought 
that the boy ought to have a chance. 

Sidney was only a little more than twelve years old, 
and would have been too young for company for Gil, 
even if the young landlord had had any time to spare 
from his business, which he hadn’t. 

“ Early in the morning is the best time for fishing, 
Sidney,” he said, “and I am always too busy in the 
morning to get away. But I can manage an hour or 
two this afternoon to show you the way to the deep 
hole, and your father, too, if he likes to go. That’s 
the best fishing-place anywhere about here.” 

Sidney sprang at the offer at once, but his father 
was afraid it might be too long a walk. 

“ It looks as if there might be some fish here in the 
dam,” he said, “ or in the mill-race.” 

“ No, sir,” Gil replied, “ the dam is too shallow, and 
the mill-race too much fished out. The deep hole is 
the best fishing-place anywhere around here, and 
it’s only about half a mile away. The water is deep 
there, thirty to forty feet, and I can show you where 
the fish bite best. I can’t stay away long enough to 
do any fishing, but after you know the way you can 
go yourselves any morning you like.” 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


51 


Sidney was so anxious about it that Mr. Merrifield 
consented to go, and after the dinner dishes were done 
and put away they set out. Down the main street and 
over the bridge, past Jason’s store, then to the right, 
following the Shingle-Kill Creek by a rocky road, past 
Guthrie’s old woollen mill; then, as the road turned 
the wrong way, over a low stone wall they went into a 
field, following a path by the stream, past the bed of 
the old railroad that had been dead and forgotten 
this fifty years, past Raeder’s mill, and so on down 
across more rocky fields, to the deep hole itself. 

“That’s the place, sir,” Gil exclaimed, as they came 
suddenly upon it. “You see it’s quite a big place, for 
such a small creek ; two or three acres in extent, I 
should think, and very deep. This is where the boys 
come for a swim, but always on the other side, because 
that is easier to reach from town. The trick of the 
thing is to come this side for fishing, because it is 
harder to reach and fewer people come here. You 
see we are about twenty-five feet above the water, on 
the edge of a straight-up-and-down cliff. Look out, 
Sidney; don’t get too near the edge.” 

Mr. Merrifield, something of a fisherman himself, 
had a great many questions to ask about the fish to be 
caught and the bait to be used ; and in the midst of 
the conversation they heard a cry and a splash, and 
realized that Sidney had fallen over the cliff into the 
deep water. 


52 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Although neither Mr. Merrifield nor Sidney could 
swim a stroke, the father did not lose his presence of 
mind in this danger. Merely crying out “ He can’t 
swim ! ” Mr. Merrifield started at the top of his speed 
toward the opposite side of the narrow field, where, with 
a quick glance, he saw the remains of an old rail fence. 

It was plain that he was after a rail to throw to his 
drowning boy; but Gil knew a better way than that. 
In an instant his hat and coat were off, and he stood 
leaning over the brink, watching for a sign. Then he 
was gone, and there was another splash, and by the 
time that Mr. Merrifield got back with a rail, Gil was 
climbing out of the water at a low place, further down 
stream, with Sidney in his arms little the worse for his 
mishap, but crying as if he had been drowned several 
times. . 

“ You’re all right, Sidney,” Gil was saying ; “ not 
a bit hurt. We’ll have you dry in a few minutes, and 
you won’t know you’ve been overboard.” 

Mr. Merrifield ran down to where they were, and 
took the dripping Sidney in his arms, but for a minute 
or two he was not able to say anything. He looked at 
Gil, however, in a way that led the young landlord to 
fear a scene. Nothing was further from Gil’s thoughts 
than the idea of his having done anything heroic. 
That high rock was one of his favorite diving-places, 
and he would have jumped off without hesitation to 
rescue a stray hat, let alone a boy. 





“‘YOU’RE ALL RIGHT, SIDNEY,’ GIL WAS SAYING.” 






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A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


53 


Mr. Merrifield was a man of few words, but Gil 
could see that he was almost upset by what he had 
thought the imminent danger of his boy. 

“Thank you, my boy,” he said, taking Gil’s hand 
in his. “ I’ll not forget you for that.” 

“ We’d better get his clothes off and wring them out, 
or he may catch cold,” Gil replied, glad to escape so 
easily ; and in a few minutes Sidney’s clothes were 
wrung out and hung over a rock to dry, and the shiver- 
ing boy was wrapped in Gil’s coat. 

Gil appeared in a dry suit at supper none the worse 
for his bath, and for weeks the monotony of buying 
butter and beefsteaks and serving them at table went 
on. But he minded the monotony no more than he did 
the labor. His first business venture was successful, 
the boarders seemed to be more than satisfied with 
everything, his debt was paid, and they were not only 
making their own living, but actually saving a little 
money. 

In the early days of September, when the leaves 
were beginning to fall a little and the trains were carry- 
ing boarders away every day, Mr. Merrifield made an 
opportunity to have a short talk with Gil. 

“Well, your season will soon be coming to an end 
now, young man,” he said. 

“Yes, sir,” Gil replied; “I’m afraid we can’t hope 
to have you with us all winter.” 

“ Hardly,” Mr. Merrifield laughed. “ It’s about once 


54 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


in a lifetime that I have as long a holiday as this, 
specially in our busy season. But I was breaking 
down under the hard work, and they insisted upon my 
taking a rest among the mountains. You might think 
a steamship man would take a trip to Europe for a 
holiday ; but we seldom do. For complete rest we 
want to get away from ships, and sea, and everything 
salty.” 

“ But it was not of myself I was thinking,” he went 
on; “it was of you. What do you do with yourself 
after your boarders are gone ? ” 

“I can hardly say, sir,” Gil replied. “You see this 
is the first season we have taken boarders. Up to last 
year I always went to school, and last winter I worked 
awhile in Jason’s store. But times are pretty bad, and 
it’s hard to find anything to do.” 

“ Must be very hard, in such a small place,” Mr. 
Merrifield assented. “ And a little village is hardly the 
place for a young man like you to make a start in. I 
suppose you have thought of that ? ” 

“ Often, sir ! ” Gil declared. And with this encour- 
agement he gave Mr. Merrifield a brief account of the 
coffee plantation and his ideas concerning it. 

“That is all very well,” Mr. Merrifield answered, 
when Gil concluded. “Things may take such a turn 
that you will get your property back. But in the 
meantime you ought to be doing something for your- 
self — something better than taking boarders, if you 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


55 


will excuse me for saying so. You have gone into this 
business like a man, and have done excellently with it ; 
but it is not a calling that will enlarge your ideas or 
bring out what is in you. You ought to be seeing 
something, and learning something.” 

“ I only wish I could, sir,” Gil assented. . 

“ That is what I wished to speak to you about,” Mr. 
Merrifield continued. “ I have become better ac- 
quainted with you this summer than you imagine, per- 
haps, for I have watched you with some interest. I 
like to see a young man who is not afraid of hard work, 
or disagreeable work, who can always be depended 
upon to do the honest thing, and who has grit. There 
are always openings for such boys. On our own line 
we have some such young fellows, all picked out with 
the greatest care. We take them on as cadets in the 
different departments, and let them work their way up. 
They have hard work, and dirty work, at first, and no 
great pay ; but they have a chance to make almost any- 
thing of themselves that they like. They see a great 
deal of the world, being on the ships, and may rise to 
be chief engineers or assistants, or sometimes even to be 
commanders of the ships. We select them, as I said, 
with great care, for our cadets must have all the good 
qualities and none of the bad ones. How would you 
like to try such a place as that ? ” 

Why, Mr. Merrifield,” Gil exclaimed, “ I should 
like it better than anything else in the world ! ” 


56 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Then you shall have a chance,’’ the superintendent 
continued. “ I can give you the necessary recommen- 
dation to the company, and I am sure you will do your 
best. But you must make up your mind to be patient, 
for openings come slowly. We do not take boys for 
a few weeks or months, you understand, but for perma- 
nent places, and it may be months before there is a 
vacancy. But keep yourself in readiness, and sooner 
or later you shall hear from me.” 

“ I don’t know how I can ever thank you, Mr. Merri- 
field,” Gil began. “I — ” 

“Oh, never mind that,” the superintendent inter- 
rupted. “ Our company needs the right sort of young 
men as much as the young men need the places. We 
have had a very pleasant time with you this summer, 
and I hope my family will be able to occupy the same 
rooms next year ; though probably I shall not be here, 
and perhaps you may not be either.” 

It seemed almost like the breaking up of a family 
when the chilly fall days came and the Merrifields 
packed their trunks and returned to New York. There 
had been hardly an unpleasant incident in the whole 
season, and the Standish family were as much pleased 
with their boarders as the Merrifields were with the 
way in which they had been treated. 

“ Remember that you are to hear from me,” Mr. 
Merrifield said as he stepped into the car, to Gil who 
stood upon the station platform to see them off. “ It 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


57 


may be in a week, or it may not be for months ; but 
you will certainly hear.” 

“ Be sure that I will be ready, sir,” Gil answered, 
“ whenever the word comes ; ” and from that small 
basis the Cairo gossips soon had a story afloat that 
Gil was to become a clerk in Mr. Merrifield’s office, 
at a salary something like the income of a Vanderbilt. 

Gil could speak then with more certainty about being 
ready when the summons came, for he had talked the 
matter over with his mother and the rest of the family, 
and knew at least that there would be no positive 
objection to his going. For this njuch he was largely 
indebted to Rose, who stood his steadfast friend 
throughout. 

“ Well,” she said, when Gil’s mother at first declared 
that she could not think of letting him go away, ‘‘if 
I had a son I should think a long time before I con- 
demned him to stay in a little country village and 
keep boarders, when he had such a chance to make 
something of himself.” 

There were many long arguments about it, in the 
course of which Gil talked Mrs. William J. over to his 
side, and with all three against her Mrs. Standish was 
compelled in the end to give at least a tacit consent. 

Already the mountain tops were covered with snow. 
Blackhead and Round Top and Finney’s Peak were 
white, and the long Cairo winter was rapidly approach- 
ing. The Standish household went back to its old ruts. 


58 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Mrs. George W. became once more the sole occupant 
of the big room over the kitchen; Mrs. William J. and 
Rose went back to the front room, and Gil moved down 
from the attic to his old quarters over the sitting room. 

The savings from the summer’s business were not 
quite enough to carry them through the long winter, 
even in their frugal way of living when alone, but 
various small sums came in unexpectedly from several 
sources. The man who owed interest on a 'mortgage 
on the farm was able to make a payment, because 
Cairo had done well even if times were dull elsewhere ; 
and Mrs. William J., who had a little property of her 
own, received some money that she had hardly looked 
for. So on the whole they felt able to keep afloat till 
the next year’s boarders came. 

Meanwhile Gil, though he had much less to do, had 
many things to think of. Almost any day his summons 
might come, and he must be ready for it. If he went 
on the American Line, he should run to Southampton, 
probably; and he read all the books he could buy or 
borrow about Southampton and the Isle of Wight, and 
England in general, and about ocean liners and famous 
voyages. He felt himself something of a sailor already, 
though he had never seen the sea. And such an eye 
as he kept upon the post-offlce ! “Your box will 
never get away for want of being watched, Gil,” the 
postmaster told him. But it began after a while to 
look like a useless vigil. All through the fall he 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


59 


watched every mail, thinking that Mr. Merrifield would 
at least send him word of some sort; and through 
November and December, past the Christmas times, 
and into the new year — the year of our Lord 1897. 
But to tell the truth the expected letter never came 
at all. 

Another thing to think of was the coffee plantation, 
for more and more news continued to come from 
Cuba, which was worse and worse or better and 
better, according as you looked at it. They had the 
news regularly now, for with the advent of boarders 
they had subscribed for a New York daily newspaper, 
which arrived every morning at a quarter past eleven. 

“ Do you see how much worse the rebellion is grow- 
ing in Cuba.?” Rose said to him one day. She never 
let a day pass without reading the news, especially the 
Cuban news. 

“ Oh, don’t I though ! ” Gil responded. “ Something’s 
going to happen down there pretty soon, and whatever 
it is it will be good for us. The Spaniards are getting 
mad at us because so many expeditions start out from 
Florida. They’d better keep their temper, if they know 
when they’re well off. If they ruffle the eagle’s feathers, 
the old bird may let fly his claws. Suppose they should 
get into a row with us ! We’d soon have a coffee plan- 
tation then.” 

“Huh!” Rose exclaimed; “we’d take Havana in a 
week, if it came to that.” 


6o 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


A week ! ” Gil cried ; “ we’d take it in ten minutes. 
What could those old forts down there do against 
one of our modern warships ? But I guess they won’t 
be so foolish. If this country once tells them to get 
out, I think they’ll get. Anyhow, we can only possess 
our souls in patience, as the dominie says, and see 
what happens.” 

Still Gil watched the mails, and still no letter came. 
Time and again his mother told him that Mr. Merrifield 
had forgotten all about him, and that he had better 
give up hoping ; but Gil was not of the giving-up kind. 
The message had been promised him, and he knew it 
was coming. It was wearisome waiting and grew more 
wearisome every day, till one morning he answered a 
ring at the bell and found the telegraph operator stand- 
ing on the porch. 

Got a message for you, Gil,” he said, holding out 
his little black book with the message inside. 

Gil had never received a telegram before in his life, 
but he tried to take it as coolly as possible. 

“ Anything to pay ? ” he asked. 

“ No, all paid,” the operator replied. “Just sign the 
book.” 

Gil signed the receipt in the proper line and took the 
message, and the operator was off through the snow. 

To run a finger under the fold of a telegraph enve- 
lope and give it a tear is a convenient method when you 
are in a hurry, and Gil took out and read the brief 


A SUMMONS INTO THE WORLD. 


6l 


message that had considerable to do with his life and 
consequently with this history of his adventures : — 

^ '‘New York, January 14. 

“Gilbert Standish, Cairo, N. Y. 

“ Vacant cadetship on the St. Louis. Come down at 
once. 

“ H. G. Merrifield.” 


CHAPTER V. 

CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 

F or a boy who had been ready for months for a 
summons, Gil found a great many questions to be 
decided offhand. Should he take a trunk? If he 
succeeded in getting the vacant place and he had not 
much doubt about that, it would be folly for him to 
come back ; so he would need plenty of clothes along. 
But there might be no place aboard ship for him to 
store a trunk ; and he concluded to take the big satchel 
and the little one. And the mere getting to New York 
was something of an undertaking, in the middle of 
winter. 

It could not quite be said of Gil that he had never 
been in a railway train, for he had been several times 
over the little railroad from Cairo to Catskill. But that 
road was built entirely for carrying summer visitors into 
the Catskills, and no trains run over it in winter. There 
was no river boat from Catskill, either, the river being 
covered with thick ice. There was nothing for it but 
the early stage to Catskill, a trip across the river, and 
then the cars to the great city that was as full of won- 

62 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 63 

ders for him as any magic city of the “ Arabian Nights,” 
because he had never seen it. 

With great skill for so inexperienced a traveller he 
looked up the time-tables and laid his plans. To get to 
Catskill that day was quite out of the question ; but he 
went over to Walters’s Hotel and left an order on the 
slate for the early stage to call for him next morning. 
That would be at 7.30, and it would get him to Catskill 
by 9-30, or before; then half an hour to get to ‘‘the 
Point,” and another half for crossing the river, and he 
would easily catch the 10.45 train for New York. That 
would land him in the city before two o’clock, and he 
could certainly reach Mr. Merrifield’s office before three. 

“ Oh, it’s dreadful, Gil, to think of your going away 
from us,” his mother said that evening as they sat 
around the sitting-room stove. “ Maybe we won’t see 
you again for months and months, and here we’ll sit 
wondering where you are, and what you are doing. 
I shouldn’t mind so much if you were not going in 
those awful ships.” 

‘‘Yes, it is dreadful, Gil,” Rose assented, with greater 
resignation in her voice than in her face ; “ but how 
much dreadfuller it would be if you werent going.” 

“Well, I suppose it’s always been so, mother,” Gil 
said, trying to laugh. “ If every young man was to stay 
at home for the sake of sitting by his mother in front 
of the stove, what a jolly old world it would be ; but it 
wouldn’t get along very fast. Some of our ancestors 


64 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


must have had go enough in them to leave home, or we 
shouldn’t be in this country at all.” 

It is no discredit to Gil to say that he slept as well as 
usual that night, after he once fell asleep ; for those who 
go out to fight the battles have new things to think 
about ; it is those left behind who do the worrying. 
And in the morning there was not much time for grief, 
for breakfast had to be eaten before daylight, and when 
the stage drew up, there was still a lamp burning in the 
dining room. 

The stage was on runners, of course, and there were 
plenty of bells on the horses, and plenty of robes in the 
sleigh to keep the passengers warm ; and the very last 
thing that Gil saw of home, just before they rounded 
the turn in the road, was his mother and Rose and 
Aunt Ellen, all standing on the cold porch, waving 
their handkerchiefs at him furiously. He waved his 
in reply, and the hill hid them from view, and he real- 
ized that his first and perhaps his most important 
journey was fairly begun. 

In less than two hours the stage set him down at 
the Irving House, in Catskill, where he had to wait for 
the sleigh-omnibus to take him down to “ the Point,” 
about a mile from the heart of the town. Everything 
went on runners, for the whole country was white with 
snow, although a few days of thawing weather had 
made the streets and roads sloppy. 

When Gil reached Catskill Point, he found that he 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 


65 


and the other passengers were to cross the Hudson 
River in a way that he had never heard of before. 
The river is broad there, nearly a mile across, and for 
many weeks the ferry boat had been able to make no 
trips on account of the ice. That same ice made a 
capital bridge, however, and for a long time horses and 
sleighs had been driven across it safely. But the few 
days of warm weather had softened the thick ice so 
that it showed signs of giving way, and indeed did give 
way in some places, so that it was no longer safe to 
drive horses across, and there was danger of even 
sleighs drawn by men breaking through. As it was ab- 
solutely necessary to reach the railway station in some 
way, a large boat was mounted on runners, with bars 
affixed to the sides for men to propel it by, three men 
to each side. If the ice gave way beneath it, the boat 
would not sink, and the men outside, if they held fast 
to the handles, could suffer nothing worse than an icy 
bath. 

In this novel conveyance Gil went slowly but safely 
across the river, in company with a dozen other pas- 
sengers, reaching the station nearly half an hour ahead 
‘of the train time. Finding already that his two 
satchels were becoming an encumbrance, he took them 
both to the baggage-room, after buying his ticket, and 
had them checked for New York, knowing that they 
could lie in the baggage-room in the city until he called 
for them. 


66 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“Now I’m in for it!” he said to himself when the 
train began to whirl him away from the scenes he had 
always been familiar with. “ I’ve got to expect some 
hard knocks where I’m going, but I’ll try to take them 
like a man. A fellow can’t expect to stay at home to 
be petted by his mother all his life — at least he should 
not care to, and I’m sure I don’t.” 

But with all his great thoughts of the future he could 
not help thinking a good deal about home and the dear 
ones left behind ; and he was still wondering what his 
mother was doing, and Rose and Aunt Ellen, when the 
train ran into the Grand Central Station, and he got out 
and soon found himself in one of the greatest crowds 
he had ever seen. Even the county fair every fall in 
Cairo was not half as bad. And as he was carried 
along by the throng into Forty-second Street, a new 
question presented itself. The newspaper advertis- 
ments told him that the office of the American Line 
was at No. 6 Bowling Green, and that the ships lay at 
Piers 14 and 15, North River. Would Mr. Merrifield 
be at the office or at the piers ? He had no idea how 
to find either place ; but he thought it over for a 
minute, in spite of the crowd that roughly bore him 
along, and concluded that the Superintendent would 
most likely be at the piers with the ships. 

“ Will you tell how to get to Pier 14, North River } ” 
he asked the big policeman who stood on the curb. 

Before the officer could answer, a hack driver who 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 6j 

had overheard the question tried to take him in 
charge. 

“It’s a long ways from here, sir,” said he, “and 
mighty hard to find. It’s well onto four mile; but 
I’ll drive you down there for two dollars.” 

“That’s the easiest way,” said the policeman, nod- 
ding his head toward the hackman, “ if you’ve got 
money to burn. But if you want to go down there 
for five cents, you go straight ahead along Forty-second 
Street till you come to the elevated railroad in Sixth 
Avenue. You cross right under the elevated, mind 
you, to the other side of the Avenue, and take a 
train down to Cortlandt Street. Get out at Cortlandt, 
and turn to the right towards the river, two or three 
short blocks, and there you are at Pier 14. You 
can’t miss it very well.” 

Gil followed these directions carefully, but not with- 
out wondering how the policeman knew him to be a 
stranger in the city ; for it was evident from his 
manner that he did know it. 

“Just wait a little,” he said to himself, “and they 
shan’t pick me out so easily for a countryman.” 

In less than half an hour he was on the river front 
at Cortlandt Street; and there, looming up in front 
of him, was a great building half a block long, with a 
big sign, “American S. S. Line,” across the front. 
But what gave him a start and made the blood jump 
in his veins was the steamship that lay at a pier to 


68 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


the south of the building, for across her stern in big 
gold letters he read her name, St. Louis. 

No wonder that he stood and looked at the big ship 
almost with awe, for it was the first ocean steamer he 
had ever seen, and one of the finest of the Atlantic 
Liners. And if his expectations were realized, that 
great fabric of steel was to be his ocean home ! He 
did not need to guess at her length or her age, for 
he had those things all by heart, having learned the 
family history of all the American Line ships. 

“Built by the Cramps in Philadelphia in 1894,” he 
said to himself, “ so she’s only three years old. Eleven 
thousand six hundred and twenty-nine gross tonnage. 
Twenty thousand horse-power in her engines. Five 
hundred and thirty-five feet long, sixty-three feet wide, 
and fifty feet deep. But I didn’t realize what those 
figures mean till I saw her. Why, she’d reach from 
our house down to Jason’s store, I should think.” 

But he did realize that he had business before him, 
and must not stand all day looking at the ship. He 
turned toward the big entrance to the pier, where he 
was promptly stopped by the man on guard. 

“ Well, sir } ” said the man, standing in front of him. 

“ Will you tell me where I can find Superintendent 
Merrifield } ” Gil asked. 

“ In the office, one flight up,” the man answered. 
“Take the stairs to the left.” 

A moment later he was in a big room upstairs, sur- 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 69 

rounded by a bewildering array of clerks and book- 
keepers in little pens with wire fronts, like cages. 

“Well, sir.?” said an office boy, who quickly stepped 
up to him. He began to think that the usual New 
York salutation. 

“ I want to see Superintendent Merrifield,” Gil 
answered. 

“ Name, please,” said the boy, holding a small pad 
and a pencil in front of him ; and Gil wrote his name 
on the pad, and the boy disappeared in another room 
with it and in a moment came back to say, “ Step this 
way, please.” 

At last he was at the end of his journey, in Mr. 
Merrifield’s office; and there was Mr. Merrifield him- 
self, looking over such piles of papers on his desk. 

“ Well, Standish, you’re on time, as usual,” the Super- 
intendent said, looking up as Gil entered. “ I was sure 
you would be here to-day, for you’re always prompt. 
Indeed, I gave you one last trial in my telegram. 
When I said ‘ Come at once,’ I meant business, for the 
St. Louis sails to-morrow, and if you had fooled away 
any time, you’d have had to wait for the next open- 
ing. 

“ I was only too glad to come, sir,” Gil answered. 

“Sit down, Gilbert,” Mr. Merrifield went on, “and 
we’ll do this business up in short order. When I was 
with you in Cairo I had plenty of time on my hands ; 
but here I have a dozen things to do every minute, and 


70 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


no time to waste. Your family are willing that you 
should go to sea, are they ? ” 

Yes, sir, quite willing,” Gil replied. 

“ Very well, then,” Mr. Merrifield continued. “ This 
vacancy is in the engineer’s department, and the pay at 
the start is twelve dollars a month. I have told you 
already about what the place is, so we need not go over 
that again. It is an excellent opening for a young man, 
and we have a great many applicants. If you are still 
in the mind to try it, I will send you aboard to see the 
chief engineer at once.” 

“ I am very anxious to try it, sir,” Gil answered. 

Without more words Mr. Merrifield pressed an elec: 
trie button, and took up a pad and wrote upon it with 
his pencil : — 

“ Chief Engineer Hawley, St. Louis. 

“This is Gilbert Standish, the young man I have 
recommended to you. If you are suited with him, he 
will sail with you to-morrow. H. G. M.” 

“Take this young man aboard the St. Louis, to the 
chief engineer,” he told the boy who answered the 
bell, handing him the slip from the pad. “ And come 
back here to me, Gilbert, after you have seen the chief.” 

“Yes, sir; thank you,” Gil replied, as the boy led the 
way out. 

“ So you’re going to be a cadet on the St. Louis, are 
you } ” the boy asked, as they went down the stairs. 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. J\ 

after taking the liberty to read what was written upon 
the paper. 

“ I hope so,” Gil answered, a little shortly. He was 
not used to the ways of office boys, and wondered that 
any boy should read a note that was given him to carry. 

“ Well, you’re in luck,” the boy went on. “ That’s a 
jolly good job for a young feller. I’ve been trying to 
get a cadetship myself, but I ain’t fetched it yet. You 
must have a big pull.” 

Gil began to protest that he knew nothing about 
“ pulls ” ; but before he could say much they reached 
the ship and the chief engineer’s room ; and the boy, 
handing the slip of paper to Mr. Hawley, returned 
to the office, and left Gil waiting to hear his fate. 

Oh, you are young Standish, are you ? ” the chief 
asked, as he read the note. “ I expected you to-day, 
as Mr. Merrifield recommended you very highly and 
said he had telegraphed for you. How old are you, 
Standish .? ” 

“ A little past seventeen, sir,” Gil answered. 

“ And you have about the ordinary common school 
education of a boy of your age, I suppose 

“Yes, sir; just about that.” 

“And you are ready to sail to-morrow.?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very well,” Mr. Hawley went on, “I wdll take 
you on the Superintendent’s recommendation, with- 
out the careful inquiries we generally make. You 


72 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


will be put on the refrigerating plant ; and I will only 
caution you that we expect the most implicit obe- 
dience from all our cadets — from every one in the 
crew, in fact. You will be under the orders of Mr. 
Crane, the cadet in charge of that plant, who is not 
much older than yourself, but his orders are to be 
obeyed as carefully as the captain’s. You will be 
particular always to address him as ‘ Mr. Crane.’ ” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil replied; and the chief pressed one 
of a long array of electric buttons on his desk, and 
in a moment the summons was answered by a brisk 
young man in blue uniform, with the Company’s in- 
signia on his cap. 

“ Here is the young man who is to take Brownley’s 
place on your staff, Mr. Crane,” the chief said. “ His 
name is Standish, and he is very highly recommended 
by the Superintendent. You can take him to your 
quarters and get him trained in a little before we 
sail.” 

“Very well, sir,” Mr. Crane answered, with what 
Gil thought a sort of military salute ; “ step this way, 
Standish.” 

Gil followed his new chief out of the room to the 
deck, and down companionways and through narrow 
passages, till he was completely lost, and at length 
into an apartment that seemed to him very small, but 
that in reality was much larger than the average. 
There were two berths on one side, one over the 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 


73 


other, and at one end a broad sofa built against the 
partition, and at the other end a narrow iron stairway 
led to some mysterious region below. What Gil 
noticed particularly about this stairway was the brass 
railing beside it, which shone like a mirror. 

“Ever been to sea before.^” Mr. Crane asked, when 
they reached this snug little den. “ Know anything 
about ships ? ” 

“ No, sir, I never was on a ship before,” Gil answered. 

“Just as well,” said Mr. Crane, seating himself on 
the sofa and keeping Gil standing before him while he 
“sized him up”; “you’ll have nothing to unlearn. 
But you’ll have a heap to learn, young man, and the 
first thing is to learn to obey orders. We couldn’t run 
a ship like this unless every man obeyed orders. This 
sofa here will be your bunk. There are three of us 
on the plant, and the last man always takes the sofa. 
Your trunk or whatever you’ve got goes under the 
bunk, and those two hooks to the right belong to you 
to hang clothes on. 

“You know what a refrigerating plant is, I sup- 
pose.^” he went on. “We carry provisions enough 
for an army on the ship, and most of them have to be 
kept cool. Our plant keeps them cool, and our busi- 
ness is to keep the refrigerator engine running. We 
have nothing to do with running the ship, but ours is 
a very important part, for all that. We stand watch 
and watch, four hours on and eight off. When you’re 


74 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


on watch, your duty is to keep the machinery oiled and 
clean, and see that everything runs smooth ; and when 
there’s any trouble, to shut off steam and call me. 
And, being the last man, you have all the brasses to 
polish every day, — but that comes out of your off- 
watch time, — and don’t forget that the chief inspects 
the quarters every morning, and you might better be 
dead than let him find any dirt on the brasses. I’ll put 
you on the first watch to-night, from 8 to I2, so I can 
be with you part of the time ; and till then you can 
look about and get your kit aboard.” 

“Very well, sir,” Gil answered, using the same form 
of reply that his young chief had used. 

“ But wait ! ” Mr. Crane exclaimed. “ I must give you 
your ship number and your fire station. Let me see — ” 
(and he took a little note-book from his pocket and con- 
sulted it), “ every man on the ship has his number, and 
yours is 428 ; put that down somewhere so you’ll not for- 
get it. And your fire station is No. 6. You can find 
boat No. 6 for yoiirself when you go on deck. When 
you hear the fire alarm you’re to drop everything (first 
shutting off steam, of course, if you happen to be on 
watch), and get to your station as fast as you can and 
wait for orders. Now do you understand everything 
Tve told you.?” 

“ I think I understand the main points, sir,” Gil 
answered ; “ but I’ll soon get the hang of it, I 
hope.” 


CADET ENGINEER STAIJdISH. 


75 


“Very well. Now get your dunnage aboard, for 
you’ll be busy to-night.” And so saying, the young 
chief went down the iron stairway, leaving Gil to his 
own resources. 

It was not as difficult to find his way through the 
passages and out to the main deck as he imagined it 
would be, and the latest recruit of the American Line 
took the opportunity to look about the ship and learn 
what he could. As no visitors were allowed on board 
the day before sailing, he was not interfered with, and 
could go pretty much where he chose. Naturally, he 
was dazzled by the splendid passenger accommoda- 
tions ; and the division of space into rooms like those 
of a house, only far finer than any house he had ever 
seen, surprised him ; but there was no one for him to 
talk to, for everybody he saw was busy. Suddenly 
it occurred to him that he must find boat No. 6, to 
learn his place in case of fire, and he set out to 
hunt for it. 

There were many boats on the davits, but by follow- 
ing the gradually decreasing numbers he soon came to 
No. 6, and stood wondering what his part would be if 
there should be a fire, when he heard a sharp voice 
calling : — 

“ Hey, boy ; come here ! ” 

Looking around, he saw a young fellow of about his 
own age, in soiled blue overalls and with his sleeves 
rolled up, looking out of a neighboring doorway. 


76 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Come here ! ” the young man repeated, as he 
caught Gil’s eye ; and Gil stepped up to him. 

“ Are you the new boy on the refrigerating plant ? ” 
he asked, looking Gil over from head to foot, but with- 
out taking his hands out of his pockets. 

“ Yes, I am to be to-night,” Gil answered. 

“Yes what.?” the young fellow snapped. “Do you 
know who you’re talking to.? I’m Mr. Clark, the first 
assistant on that plant, and when you speak to me you 
call me Mister, and when you answer you say sir. Do 
you understand that, youngster.?” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil answered, trying hard to keep from 
smiling and succeeding very well. 

“Well, see you remember it,” Mr. Clark continued. 
“ Mr. Crane forgot to tell you to be at the engi- 
neers’ mess at one bell in the second dog-watch 
for supper. Don’t forget that either, or you’ll get no 
supper. But you’re a hayseed, I suppose, and don’t 
know a dog-watch from a watch-dog. That means 
6.30; and see you’re prompt.” 

With this parting injunction the important young 
man disappeared, and left Gil wondering whether the 
first assistant on the refrigerating plant was of more 
consequence aboard ship than the chief engineer, and 
whether such a companion would be altogether pleasant 
on a long voyage. 

But too much was happening that day for him to 
wonder long at anything. In the morning he had 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 


77 


never in his life been out of sight of old Blackhead. 
In the afternoon he was a cadet on the St. Louis, with 
the great unknown city close beside him ; and next 
morning he was to sail for Europe in one of the finest 
and largest and fastest steamers afloat. 

Time went on, however, as quietly and rapidly as if 
there had been no change in his condition, and with 
almost every moment there was something new to 
occupy his attention. The last brief interview with 
Mr. Merrifield, in which the Superintendent explained 
to him how to give his checks to an expressman and 
have his baggage brought down at once from the 
Grand Central Station ; the first supper in the mess 
room, which was good and abundant, but somewhat 
marred by young Clark’s domineering ways; the first 
duty on watch in the little engine room, in which Mr. 
Crane visited him frequently and kept him busy scour- 
ing more brass work than he had - any idea a single ship 
could carry ; and at length the relief at eight bells, 
meaning midnight, when Mr. Clark went on watch 
again, and when Gil could have turned in, if he had 
chosen, in the comfortable bed that one of the engi- 
neer’s stewards had made up for him on the sofa. But 
he still had one more duty to perform ; for how could 
he sail for England next morning without sending a 
letter home ? 

There was still a light burning in the mess room, and 
with a pencil and a pad on the table he wrote much 


78 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


more than he intended to “ Dear Mother, Aunt Ellen, 
Rose, & Co.” 

Everything has turned out properly,” he wrote, 
“ and I am a cadet engineer on the St. Louis, at twelve 
dollars a month, ‘ with a chance for advancement,’ as 
the boys say who advertise for situations.” Then he 
told of his journey down, and his kind reception by 
Mr. Merrifield, and continued : “ One thing that I had 
not thought of before, but that I see plainly enough 
now, is that I shall have an entirely new set of friends 
for a while. No more mother and aunty and cousin to 
make me change my wet shoes. No more, for a while, 
of the good old Cairo boys. I don’t know yet, of 
course, who the new ones are to be. Mr. Crane, my 
chief boss, I think I shall like. Mr. Clark, my second 
boss, I am not quite sure about yet. He is very ‘bossy,’ 
but he can’t hurt a fellow who is determined to obey 
orders at all hazards. It’s funny he should be so im- 
portant, too, for he was only the boy in our department 
till this last voyage, just as I am now. 

“I can’t tell you to-night about the ship — indeed, I 
don’t see how anybody could describe her. She is like 
twenty great houses in one, with half as many people 
on her as there are in Cairo. I can’t understand how 
the highest seas could make her rock, but they say 
they do. 

“ In three weeks, I believe, we are to be back, and 


CADET ENGINEER STANDISH. 79 

then you shall at least have another letter from, if you 
do not see in person, 

“ Your affectionate son and nephew and cousin, 

“ Gilbert Standish, 
Cadet Eyigineer S.S. St. Louis.” 


CHAPTER VI. 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 



HE new cadet took his initiation into a sailor’s life 


1 “ all in one dose,” as he expressed it himself. He 

had no knowledge, at the beginning, that the North 
Atlantic was much more boisterous in winter than in 
summer; but he learned something about that before 
he had been a cadet for many hours ; and learned so 
many other things, too, that he could not help realizing 
that he had begun a new life in a new world — a world 
composed largely of water, as far as he could see. 

The way the St. Louis started on a voyage was one 
of his first surprises. He expected a great crowd of 
passengers, and a greater crowd on the pier to see them 
off ; and he was fully prepared to see the St. Louis start 
off with a bound, like a hunting dog suddenly un- 
chained. But everything was different. There were 
few passengers, as people do not cross the ocean in 
winter for pleasure, and still fewer people were out in 
the cold to see them off ; and as for the start, there was 
not as much fuss about it as the Catskill ferry-boat 
makes in starting to cross the river, and he would not 


8o 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 


8r 


have known they were under way if he had not seen 
the big pier shed moving slowly backward. 

“ Get all the air you can, youngster ; you’ll not see 
much of the deck when we’re out of the bay.” 

Gil was standing just outside the companion door, 
enjoying his first sight of the upper bay and the cities 
that surround it. He was off duty for the time, Mr. 
Crane himself being on watch, and it was his messmate 
Clark who spoke — “ Mister ” Clark, as he insisted upon 
being called, though there was a little change for the 
better in his manner, for he saw that Gil had no inten- 
tion of putting himself on an equality with so old and 
experienced an officer. 

“Why, don’t they allow us on deck when we’re at 
sea ? ” Gil asked. 

“ They allow it fast enough,” Clark answered, “ but 
you won’t want much of it. Do you think one of these 
fast liners is like an old freighter.? We don’t rise to 
the waves like a lighter ship, but cut right through ’em. 
When we’re at full speed in heavy weather the decks 
are flooded. They say a ship that’s near enough sees 
nothing of us at such a time but the tops of our funnels ; 
everything else’s just water and foam.” 

It was quite a condescension for Mr. Clark to say so 
much to the boy of his department, but he could not 
quite resist the temptation to air his superior knowledge, 
and Gil was glad to have the information even on such 
terms. The young man pointed out some of the inter- 


82 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


esting places on shore, such as Governor’s Island and 
Fort Lafayette and Staten Island and then Coney 
Island, and Gil looked at them all, but some of them he 
hardly saw, for he was thinking of other things. He 
could not help feeling a curious sensation around the 
heart as he saw the land disappearing, and the ship 
tearing through the water, and knew that every moment 
was taking him further away from the home and the 
dear ones he had never left before. He might have 
thought too much about these things for his own com- 
fort if the ship’s bow had not suddenly made a great 
dive toward the bottom of the sea, when they were well 
out past Sandy Hook. 

“ Look out ! ” Clark shouted ; he had had experience in 
such matters, and knew what was to follow. But instead 
of looking out he looked in, and not only looked but went 
in, through the open door, and dragged Gil after him. He 
quickly closed the door, and about two seconds afterward 
they heard the crash of a hundred tons of water break- 
ing upon the deck and the deck-houses. 

'‘Now we’re going to get it!” Clark laughed; 
“ there’s been a nasty easterly wind for three or four 
days, and we’re going right into the face of a dandy 
sea. You begin to look pale already, youngster, but 
you mustn’t give in to it. Never been seasick, eh.'^ 
Well, you’ll know soon enough what it is. You’re all 
blue about the mouth, but you must stick it out and 
keep on your feet. Everybody’ll laugh at you if you 
give in.” 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 


83 


This was particularly exasperating to Gil, for he had 
not thought of such a thing as being sick ; but he had 
made up his mind that he should have a heap of 
unpleasant things to stand from Clark, so he only 
laughed about it. 

It was a triumph •for him, though he had to enjoy it 
all by himself, that he was not sick a single minute in 
the whole voyage. There were two or three times 
when, as the stern went down viciously, he felt as if 
the top of his head were coming off ; but that was the 
worst, and he soon outgrew it. 

By the time they were off the Banks of Newfound- 
land, in two days and a half, the new cadet had settled 
well down to his work. The same things came with 
great regularity every day ; on watch, off watch, scour- 
ing, oiling, keeping an eye on the machinery; eating, 
sleeping, and coming off watch dirty and oily. But 
what mattered the dirty oil, when they had their own 
little bath-room adjoining their room, where they could 
wash to their heart’s content ? 

It did not take Mr. Crane long to see that his new 
boy put brain as well as muscle into his work. Any 
boy can scour brass handles and ornaments, but not 
every boy takes as much interest in the work as Gil did. 
He was determined to understand the business ; and be- 
fore he had been many days on the ship he made the 
acquaintance of young Mr. Hanway, the fourth assist- 
ant engineer, and borrowed a standard work from him 


84 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


on “ Modern Marine Engines,” which he studied when- 
ever he had a chance. And Mr. Crane saw that, too, 
and loaned him other books on the same subject, and 
took pains to teach him. And one day, on the voyage 
over, Mr. Hanway took him down into the great engine 
room when they were both off duty, and showed him 
the wonderful machinery that kept the ship in motion. 
That day they had a conversation, too, that gave Gil 
new things to think about. 

“ I like to see a youngster take an interest in his 
work,” Mr. Hanway said, “and you seem to like it. 
If you’re as bright as I think- you are, you’ll lose no 
opportunity to learn, for the chances were never as 
good as now for promotion for everybody, to my way 
of thinking.” 

“ Why now more than at any other time, sir ? ” Gil 
asked. 

“ Can’t you see through a ladder ? ” Mr. Hanway 
answered, with a laugh. “ Don’t you sniff blood in 
the air.? The Spaniards are getting mad at us be- 
cause the Cubans get so much help from this country ; 
and the Americans are getting mad over the way the 
Cubans are abused. Both countries are growing hotter 
every day. If we don’t have a little scrap with Spain 
before many months. I’m very much mistaken.” 

Gil was surprised to find that other people held his 
own notions about possible trouble with Spain; but 
still he did not quite catch Mr. Han way’s meaning. 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 85 

“ What has that to do with our promotion, sir ? ” he 
asked. 

“ Everything,” the engineer answered, “ because the 
St. Louis is an auxiliary cruiser. Do you know what 
that means ? Like some more fine steamers, she is 
built after plans approved by the government, so that 
in case of war the government can take her and use her 
for a warship. And in return for this her owners get 
certain payments and privileges. So if we have a war, 
the ship is sure to go into the navy, and her crew with 
her ; and as some of the men won’t care to go, for 
various reasons, promotions will come with a jump. 
That’s why I say this is a good time to learn, 
youngster.” 

“ But she is not covered with armor, like a warship, 
Mr. Hanway,” Gil objected. 

“ No, she hasn’t the sides, that’s true, but she has the 
heels,” Mr. Hanway laughed. “ She couldn’t fight a 
Spanish man-of-war, but she could run away from her, 
and sometimes that’s more important than fighting. I 
suppose the St. Louis could show her stern to any war- 
ship in the world ; and that makes her so valuable that 
if there is a fight we are sure to be in it.” 

This set Gil to thinking very hard. So other people 
held his opinion, did they, that there was danger of a 
war with Spain ? He had not heard any one speak so 
plainly about it before. The more he thought about 
it, the more certain he felt that he did not want to see 


86 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


the country plunged into war if it could be helped. 
How many brave young men would lose their lives, 
how many millions be spent, if we should have a war ! 
But he felt, too, that if there should be a war, if we 
should be forced into one for the sake of humanity, or 
for the safety or dignity of the nation, he must have a 
hand in it. 

Better than all, as he regarded it, his own little 
affairs seemed to go completely into the background 
whenever he thought of the chances of war. To be 
sure, trouble with Spain would be almost certain to re- 
store to him and his family the property of which they 
had been deprived. But what was that compared with 
the honor of the beloved country and flag.^^ It was not 
for a coffee plantation that he wanted to fight, but for 
his country. And when they reached Southampton 
and he saw only two or three American flags among so 
many flags of all nations, the dear old stars and stripes 
were dearer to him than ever. 

“ So all the men on the ship won’t want to go, won’t 
they, if we are taken into the navy,” he said to himself. 
“Well, I don’t want to be one of the shirkers, and I 
must try and get that matter settled at home. I won’t 
go without mother’s consent, of course ; but I don’t 
think she’s the mother to hold me back if my country 
needs me. To be sure, the chances are ten to one 
against our having any war ; but if there is one, I want 
to be prepared.” 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 


87 


It was a disappointment to him to find that he would 
have no shore leave at Southampton. The Isle of 
Wight and all that he could see of the mainland looked 
remarkably green and pleasant for the time of year, 
but the best he could get was an hour’s leave to have a 
hurried look at the city, just enough to warrant his say- 
ing that he had been in England ; for the refrigerating 
engine must be in motion whether the ship was at sea 
or in port, and there was no rest for its crew. 

There was always time to write when he was off 
watch, however, and on his first evening in Southamp- 
ton he went mto the mess room and wrote a long letter 
home. 

“ If we were going right back,” he wrote, “ it would 
be folly for me to send you a letter from here, for when 
the St. Louis once starts there’s nothing afloat can beat 
her across the Atlantic. But we are to be here about 
four days ; and one of the German steamers bound for 
New York touches here to-morrow, so I suppose you 
will get this when we are about the middle of the 
ocean. 

“You will want to know how I am and what I am 
doing, and I can tell you that in short order. I never 
felt better in my life, and take three big meals a<fday 
with great regularity. And I am a great deal browner 
than when you saw me last, though how much of it 
comes from the sea air and how much from dirty oil 
ground into my skin I can hardly say. 


88 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Well, I am the ‘ boy ’ of the refrigerating plant ; 
that is, the last fellow to come on, and have most of the 
cleaning and scouring to do, and two ‘ bosses ’ to see 
that I do it right. One of the bosses is Mr. Crane, the 
chief of this department, a good fellow who teaches me 
a great deal about the work and is always pleasant. 
The other is a young man named Clark, who is rather 
funny, than otherwise. I suppose a good many fellows 
in my place would get mad at him, but I haven’t yet, 
and don’t intend to, for I made up my mind when I 
came here just to stand whatever came and attend to 
my business. Mr. Clark doesn’t teach me anything, but 
I can’t blame him very much for that, because I don’t 
think he could. He is very ‘ bossy,’ but what difference 
does that make ? I suppose he is paying me off for the 
way he was bossed himself, when he was the boy. I 
will give you a little illustration of his style — not be- 
cause I mind it any, but simply to introduce him to you. 

“ One day Mr. Crane relieved me on watch just be- 
fore mess time, and I hurried up to our bath-room to 
wash for supper — for we get very black and oily in the 
engine room. I suppose I was in too much, of a hurry 
and didn’t get all the grime off, for just as I went into 
the stateroom, Mr. Clark came in and pretended to be 
shocked at my appearance. 

‘ Why don’t you keep yourself clean, Standish ? 
You’re perfectly filthy. Go and wash yourself, and be 
quick about it’ 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 


89 


“Just imagine a fellow of my age being ordered to 
go and wash, and by a chap hardly as old as himself ! 
But what do you think I did } Why, / just went and 
washed myself over agahi. He’ll soon get tired of that 
business when he finds that I obey every order he gives 
me. 

“ But there are pleasanter things to write about. I 
must have you all on board some day to see our cosey 
quarters, for we are as snug as Robinson Crusoe in his 
cave. It’s wonderful how there can be so many sets of 
men in so small a space without their seeing more of 
each other. There are all the passengers, to begin 
with, that we don’t see at all at this time of year, except 
sometimes a stray one on deck. And all the engineers, 
and all the stokers, and all the crew ! Nearly five hun- 
dred people on board, but still we are all to ourselves 
when we want to be. 

“There’s a great lot of brass work in our little 
department, and I have to keep it all bright. But 
never mind; some day I’ll be promoted a step, and 
then the next boy will have it to do. I have learned a 
heap about the engines in a week, and Mr. Hanway, the 
fourth engineer, lends me mechanical books. I need 
hardly tell you that having gone into the business, I 
want to learn it thoroughly. If I ever become a coffee- 
planter (!) there may be engines on the estate, and then 
my knowledge will come in handy. 

“Now I have left my most important subject for 


90 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


the last, as they say girls always do in a letter. I 
must tell you to begin with that the St. Louis is what 
they call an auxiliary cruiser. That is, she is built 
after a certain style, with great speed, and in case of 
war she is liable to be taken by the government and 
put into the navy. And some of the men seem to 
think, as I do, that we are in danger of having a war 
with Spain. Mr. Hanway, the fourth engineer, says 
that in such a case some of the men would not go, so 
it would be a great time for promotions. 

“Now, mother, and all of you, I hope there won’t 
be any war ; but if there is one, I don’t want to be one 
of the men to back out. I want to stand by the ship 
and serve my country ; and I speak of it in good time 
so that I can be one of the first on board to say so. 

“ You must not think that I feel so merely because 
I want to serve our own interests or to be promoted. 
I used to talk about fighting the Spaniards so that 
we could get our plantation back ; but I was only a 
boy then. I never knew till I got into a foreign land 
how much I love our own dear country; and if she 
should ever be in need of defenders, I could not stay 
at home. It would be impossible. What our grand- 
fathers and fathers fought for we must fight for too if 
necessary, and I am sure you would not prevent me. 

“ Of course I would not go without your consent. 
But if the time should come, I want to write ‘ Gil Stan- 
dish ’ on the list as soon as they ask who will go. So 


WAR CLOUDS GATHER. 


91 


think of it, please ; and be sure to send me a letter 
while we are in New York, for it is very doubtful 
whether I can get home this trip. 

“ That is the important part of my letter. Do not 
overlook it, please, when you answer, for not a day 
passes without my thinking about it. I am all right in 
every respect, and like my new business, and intend 
to push myself ahead in it if it is possible. With much 
love to you all, 

“Your affectionate son and nephew and cousin, 
“Gilbert Standish, 

“ Cadet Engineer S.S. St. Louis.” 


CHAPTER VII. 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


STEAMER, at her highest speed, which is ten 



knots, consumes one ton of coal an hour, and 


when eight hundred knots from the port to which she 
is bound finds she has only forty-five tons of fuel 
remaining; at what rate must she proceed to enable 
her to reach the port without the aid of sails ? ” 

By the time he had been a cadet on the Sl Louis for 
a year, Gil was spending his spare time solving little 
problems like that, which would be puzzling enough 
for most of us, but had become easy to him. Only 
a year! twelve months, fifty-two weeks — or twenty- 
one round trips across the ocean, as he figured it 
himself. 

We can see by the way he handles that problem, 
which was given him by the chief engineer (who has 
become his friend and occasional instructor), whether 
the young cadet has been wasting his time or not. To 
be sure, it is not an exceptionally hard one; but if you 
think it a question for the infant class, just try a hand 
at it yourself, without the aid of Gil’s figures. 


92 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


93 


He has a little blank book in his hand as he sits on 
the sofa, and we may take the liberty to look over his 
shoulder and see what he is doing. 

“At the consumption of one ton an hour,” he has 
written, “the quantity at ten knots would be eighty 
tons ; so, if x be the rate at which she must steam, we 
have 

45 : 8o : : ;r2 X 800 : lo^ x 800 id^; 

80 x^ = 45 X lo^. 
y 2 _ 45 X 100 
80 

= 4 X 45 

= i2i 

= 56 25 ; 

4: = V56.25 

= 7.5 knots. 

The chief could say nothing but that it was well 
done, for a young engineer fresh out of the naval 
academy could not have done it better. 

But Gil’s advancement in mathematics was only one 
of the events of the year. Once, only once, he had 
got long enough leave to venture a hurried trip to 
Cairo, and that was in midsummer, when he found 
Mr^Merrifield’s family occupying the three rooms as 
before, but without the Superintendent, who went up 
only on Saturdays to spend Sunday; and that time 


94 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Gil had a royal welcome, you may be sure. And 
young Clark had been taken from the refrigerating 
plant and made an oiler in the great engine room, 
which he could regard as a promotion or not, as he 
chose, as his pay remained the same. So Gil was 
first assistant in the refrigerating crew, with only Mr. 
Crane over him, and with his salary increased to eigh- 
teen dollars a month, and with Jack Knowles, the new 
boy, under him. 

There was no more scouring of brasses then, for 
Mr. Gil; no more sweeping of the engine room, or 
being ordered about by young Clark. He knew the 
refrigerating engine from top to bottom, from fly-wheel 
to the smallest bolt, and was quite competent to take 
charge of it without any one to watch him ; and Mr. 
Crane was well pleased to have it so, for it secured 
him many a good night’s sleep. 

Such was Gil’s status on board when the St. Louis 
sailed from Southampton on Saturday, February 12, 
1898, on the trip that was to be his forty -fourth voyage 
across the Atlantic. He was well satisfied with the 
progress he had made, with the reports from home, 
and with the occupation that seemed to be his fate ; 
and as for war, there had been times in the year when 
it looked like a probability, but the battle clouds had 
latterly been drifting away. The Spaniards wefe at 
least holding their own in Cuba, and seemed less dis- 
posed to seek a quarrel with the United States. 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


95 


After the usual rough winter voyage the St. Louis 
sighted the Fire Island light a little before daybreak 
on Saturday, the 19th of February; and when she 
steamed past Sandy Hook, at about eight o’clock, Gil 
was just beginning his forenoon watch down in the 
engine room. Running into New York harbor was 
an old story with him now, and going below was no 
hardship. On account of a heavy winter fog no pilot 
had yet answered the ship’s signals ; but the revenue 
cutter was on hand in the lower bay with the custom- 
house officers, and they climbed aboard when the St. 
Louis stopped her engines to wait for the pilot. 

From his place below Gil could not see that the 
cutter’s flag was at half-mast, nor that the stolid 
revenue officers looked unusually solemn as they 
stepped aboard. And well they might, for it lay with 
them to tell the sad news that four days before had 
startled and shocked the whole world, but that was 
still unknown on board the liner. 

Such news travels fast aboard ship. In five minutes 
the whole saloon was talking about it, the whole engine 
room, the whole crew. Gil got his first inkling of it 
by a call down the iron stairs from Mr. Crane. 

“ Hello, there, Standish ! ” his chief called. 

“Aye, aye, sir,” Gil promptly answered., 

“ The Maine's been blown up ! ” the voice continued. 

It came so suddenly that he did not grasp it at first. 

“ What Maine, sir } ” Gil asked. 


96 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“The United States Battleship Maine,'' Mr. Crane 
answered. “ Blown up by the Spaniards with a mine 
in Havana harbor, and 266 of her crew killed.” 

“ W-h-a-t ! ” Gil shouted, forgetting for once to say 
“ sir ” to his superior. 

“And there’s a Spanish man-of-war in New York 
harbor ! ” Mr. Crane added. 

“ Has war been declared ? " Gil asked. 

“Not yet,” said Mr. Crane, “but it will be. They 
say the whole country is wild over it.” 

With this he was gone, perhaps to hear further news, 
and for the first time Gil felt it a hardship to be con- 
fined to the engine room. 

There were so many things for him to think of ; but 
foremost of all was the feeling of indignation that such 
an outrage should be perpetrated upon his country. 
And you will be shocked, I am afraid, to hear that the 
next was a burning thirst for revenge. It was very 
wrong, of course ; but good fellow as he was, Gil had 
not yet reached a state of absolute perfection. There 
was enough love of justice in his heart, however, to 
lead him to ask himself, when he had had time to think, 
“ How do they know the Spaniards blew her up ? The 
Cubans might have done it to make trouble ; or per- 
haps a boiler exploded.” But in the absence of par- 
ticulars he could only wonder and feel indignant. 

Soon after they were under way again, with the pilot 
on board. Jack Knowles, the new boy, went down and 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


97 


offered to relieve him for a few minutes so that he 
could go on deck and see the Spanish warship. 

They ran within a few hundred feet of her, and Gil 
saw that she was called the Vizcaya^ and that she 
looked very formidable and dangerous. But what sur- 
prised him most was the fleet of small boats that sur- 
rounded her — revenue cutters, police boats, and tugs. 

“That’s for her protection,” Mr. Crane explained. 
“ Our government won’t take any chances of some hot- 
headed American blowing her up in New York harbor 
out of revenge. The Spaniards may like that sort of 
work, but we don’t.” 

Though the St. Louis soon reached her pier, Gil was 
still on watch and could not leave his engine till twelve 
o’clock, and each of those hours seemed like a day to 
him. He began gradually to think of his own affairs, 
and to wonder what was in store for him. Unless the 
Spaniards made proper amends such an indignity must 
be resented, and there would be a war. And if there 
was a war, he would be in it, and Cuba would be freed, 
and some people he knew would come into their own. 
But everything seemed uncertain. 

When noon at last came, and Mr. Crane relieved him 
on watch, Gil went up to the stateroom, and after wash- 
ing drew out his big satchel from under the berth and 
took out a package of letters. Two of them were 
marked with a cross in lead pencil, and these he drew 
from the package. They bore the signs of age and 


H 


98 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

wear, for they were many months old, and he had car- 
ried them in his pocket a long time and read them fre- 
quently. They were answers to the letters he had 
written home on the night of his first arrival in South- 
ampton. He took out the smaller one and read : — 

“ Dear Gil : Your letter came this afternoon, and 
your mother is going to answer it to-morrow morning ; 
but I shall be a little ahead of her by writing this 
evening. 

“You did exactly right to be in good time and say 
that if we have a war you want to go. Your mother 
will certainly give her consent, for I shall keep urging 
her till she does. If there is a war, I intend to go my- 
self, as far as a girl can, by making what poor things I 
can for the soldiers. Of course I am too young to 
know what war is, but I am old enough to know what 
love of country is. 

“You know I love you as if you were my own 
brother; but if the country needed you and you did 
not go, I should be ashamed to look at you. But that 
could never be. I am sure your mother will give her 
consent. 

“ Your loving cousin, 

“ Rose.” 

The other, from his mother, was on larger paper and 
in a larger envelope, but there were only a few lines 
of writing. 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


99 


“ My dearest Boy : What you wrote has given me 
a great deal of anxiety, though I comfort myself with 
thinking that our merciful Father will save us from the 
horrors of war. 

“ After seeking wisdom from the Only Wise, I have 
been given strength to tell you this : That if we should 
have a war with Spain, I do not want you to go into 
it on account of any private wrongs the Spanish have 
done us, for that would be an ignoble cause. Nor 
would I have you go into it for the sake of promotion, 
nor because your companions went. 

“ But if our dear country should need you, I could not 
justify myself in holding you back, even though you 
are my only son and I a widow. After God our first 
duty is to our country, and we must all do it. I can 
only pray that we may not be put to this great trial. 
I will send you a longer letter before you sail. 

“ Mother.” 

That letter Gil considered one of his most sacred 
possessions ; quite on a par with the Magna Charta 
or the Declaration of Independence. He knew that 
the paper must have been wet with his mother’s tears, 
and that it must have cost her a terrible struggle to 
write it. But it was a plain permission for him to go 
with his ship if she went to war, and it filled him with 
joy. 

Of course there were letters for him in New York. 


ICX) 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


for his mother and Rose never failed to write ; letters 
that confirmed the ones he had just been reading, and 
were full of sympathy for the murdered crew of the 
Marne. But those letters go with the rest of the in- 
distinct happenings of the next two months. To this 
day Gil can hardly sort them out, they came so rapidly 
and in the midst of so much excitement. He remem- 
bers perfectly well that the Naval Court of Inquiry 
had been appointed two days before the St. Louis 
reached New York, and that on the following Monday 
it began its work, to fix the responsibility for the explo- 
sion. And he has a distinct recollection of going ashore 
at Southampton on the tenth of March, the ship having 
been delayed that trip, and meeting Tom Lewis on the 
pier. Tom was a young Englishman whose acquaint- 
ance he had made. 

“ Hello, Standish ! ” Tom shouted ; “ hooray for you 
fellows ! I take off my hat to Americans this morning.” 

Why, what’s up ” Gil asked ; “ you know we 
haven’t heard any news for a week.” 

“ What, don’t you know } ” Tom cried ; “ oh, it’s great 
news for you. A bill was introduced in your Congress 
last Monday appropriating fifty million dollars for the 
national defence — in other words, for licking Spain. 
It went through the House of Representatives on Tues- 
day by a unanimous vote — not a single vote against 
it. On Wednesday it went through the Senate the 
same way, and the President signed it at once. That’s 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


lOI 


the way I like to see a country do business; put up 
or shut up, and no blooming nonsense about it. You 
know what that means, I s’pose ? ” 

It means war, of course,” Gil answered, “ unless 
the Spaniards back out ; and the poor Cubans will be 
freed.” 

“Oh, don’t give me any Cuban stuff ! ” Tom laughed. 
“ It’s not the Cubans you fellows are going to war 
about ; you’re going to thrash Spain because she blew 
up your ship. And you’re right, too, and you may be 
sure the English people are your friends. I don’t 
know what the government may do, but the people are 
with you. Shake, old man. You’ll go, of course ? ” 

“ Certainly,” Gil replied. “ The 5 /. Louis is an aux- 
iliary cruiser, and I suppose she will be ordered out 
very soon. I think I’ll go back on board, Tom, and 
tell the news.” 

He half suspected that the ship might have found 
cable orders to return at once, but there was no news 
yet of any such orders; and they were back in New 
York in time to read that the Oregon had sailed from 
San Francisco to join the Atlantic Squadron. 

By that time things were happening so fast that Gil 
began to make memoranda in his little account book. 
There was no longer any doubt about war, and he 
wanted a record of the way it commenced. 

“March 28,” he wrote, Maine inquiry report sent 
to Congress. 


102 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ April 5, Consul-General Lee recalled from Havana. 

“April lo, Consul-General Lee left Havana. 

“April II, President asked authority to intervene in 
Cuba. 

“April 19, Intervention resolutions passed. 

“ April 20, Ultimatum sent to Spain. 

“April 21, Spain gave Minister Woodford his pass- 
ports. 

“ April 22, Proclamation of Cuban blockade. The 
Nashville captured the first prize. 

“April 23, The President called for 125,000 volun- 
teers. 

“ April 24, The — ” 

That entry for April 24 was left unfinished, and re- 
mains so to this day, for something important happened 
while he was writing it. Gil keeps it just as he left it, 
to mark an important point in his life. 

They were lying at their pier in New York, and 
exciting rumors had been afloat for twenty-four hours. 
It was known that Mr. Merrifield was away from his 
office, something that seldom happened ; and the story 
spread through the ship that he and the president of 
the company had been telegraphed for by the Secretary 
of the Navy. Nobody on board knew positively whether 
this was true, but it seemed very likely. 

Late in the afternoon Gil sat in the stateroom, begin- 
ning to make an entry in his book, with Mr. Crane 
sitting on the sofa, looking over some papers, and Jack 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


103 


Knowles below on watch, when the door opened with- 
out warning, ^nd Ben Hanway, the fourth engineer, 
stepped in with an evening newspaper in his hand, and 
a look in his face that Gil knew had a meaning. 

“ Here we are, fellows,” Hanway exclaimed ; “ here’s 
what we’ve been looking for. Listen to this ; ” and he 
held up the paper and read : — 

“ Washington, April 24. — The four fast ships of the 
American Line, the New York, Paris, St. Louis, and 
St. Paul, were chartered by the Navy Department 
to-day, for the Spanish war. They are to receive their 
armament immediately, and will be attached to the 
Atlantic Squadron. These four are among the fastest 
ships afloat, and are expected to be of great service in 
the navy.” 

“ Hurrah ! ” Gil shouted ; and he held up his little 
book and waved it in the air. But the next moment a 
different expression spread over his face. It was all 
very well for him, who was young and hearty, and anx- 
ious to fight for his country. But there flashed into his 
mind a picture of the home among the mountains, and 
the little mother sitting day after day, week after week, 
waiting for news of her boy that perhaps might never 
come. 

‘‘We’ll be sworn into the navy in short order now,” 
Mr. Crane said, as Hanway went out and shut the door 
after him. Then noticing Gil’s thoughtful look, he 
added, “ You’re not going to back out, Standish } ” 


104 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“No, sir, I am not going to back out,” Gil answered. 

“ I thought you looked a bit shaky, now that it’s 
come to the point,” Mr. Crane laughed. 

Gil did not laugh in return. He felt little like laugh- 
ing that afternoon. 

“ I am more anxious to go than ever,” he said ; “ and 
I have private reasons for wanting to go that few people 
in the country have. And my mother has consented ; 
but she may have changed her mind, and I am going to 
have her consent once more before I enlist. A fellow 
don’t want to break his mother’s heart, Mr. Crane.” 

“ Right you are, my boy,” Mr. Crane assented. “ A 
fellow has only one mother; and this is not a case 
where the country is in great need of any one man’s 
services, for millions of men will want to go. But your 
mother won’t stop you, Standish. If she is like you, 
she has grit, and she’ll tell you, ‘ Go in, young man, and 
shoot your prettiest.’ ” 

“I hope so, sir,” Gil answered, smiling; and he 
straightway went ashore to the nearest telegraph office 
and sent this message to his mother : — 

“ Mrs. Geo. W. Standish, Cairo, N. Y. 

“ St, Louis chartered for navy to-day. I shall en- 
list at once unless you forbid it. Answer by telegraph. 

“Gilbert Standish.” 

It was late when the message went, and Gil had no 
great hope of receiving an answer that night. He was 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


105 


sure, at any rate, of hearing in the morning, and the 
interval gave him plenty of time to think of what had 
happened and what was likely to happen. He found 
that his heart was set upon going with the ship; his 
fingers tingled to have a hand in the coming fight ; to 
see the ship sail off for the war and he stay behind 
seemed more than he could bear. But he was as strong 
mentally as physically, and quite able to master himself, 
and the faster these thoughts crowded into his mind, 
the more determinedly he said to himself : — 

“ I shall try to do what is right. It is not always 
what we most want that is right. I should rather be 
shot than stay behind, but that don’t count. Unless 
mother gives her free consent, without any urging, 
I shall stay at home.” 

At nine o’clock next morning, Mr. Hawley, the 
chief engineer, stepped into their room; and Gil be- 
gan to feel uneasy, for that looked as if something 
were about to happen, and he had yet received no 
answer from Cairo. Gil and Mr. Crane were in the 
room, and Jack Knowles was on watch in the engine 
room. 

“ Knowles is on watch, I suppose,” Mr. Hawley 
said, as he closed the door and looked around the 
room. “Tell him to shut off his steam, Mr. Crane, 
and come up here.” 

Gil’s heart sank as Mr. Crane repeated the order 
to Jack Knowles. The chief had never done such a 


io6 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


thing before, and there was no doubt in his mind 
now of what was coming. Those who were willing 
were to enlist, and the others were to take their kits 
and sneak ashore like cowards. It had long been 
his desire to be one of the very first on board to 
enter the country’s service, and to have to lag be- 
hind would be a terrible blow. But in another mo- 
ment he felt ashamed of himself. 

“ I said I should do what was right,” he repeated 
to himself, “and I’m going to. I’m not the only fel- 
low who wants to go and can’t. If it kills me. I’ll 
not enlist till I hear from home.” 

Jack Knowles came up from the engine room, black 
and oily, and looking very much surprised. But his 
looks changed when he began to suspect what it 
all meant. He looked pleased then, and Mr. Crane 
looked delighted. It was the grand moment for which 
they had waited so long. Gil could feel his heart 
thump against his ribs. He looked down at the tips 
of his shoes, and his fingers drummed unconsciously 
upon the seat. 

“ Well, my boys,” the chief began, “ you know what 
^has been going on. The St. Louis has been char- 
tered by the government, and is going to the war. 
But no one in the crew is to be forced into it. If 
any man on board is afraid to go and fight the Span- 
iards, he can go ashore and hide behind his mother’s 
apron, and draw his full month’s pay.” 


ENLISTED IN THE NAVY. 


107 


Gil groaned before he knew it, and then blushed, 
for he felt that they were all looking at him. He 
took out his handkerchief and wiped the perspiration 
from his face. It was wet; and he could not have 
spoken without breaking down. But he kept saying 
to himself, “Not till I hear; no, not if it kills me!” 

“ We want to keep the old crew as far as possible,” 
the chief went on, “ and every man shall have a 
chance. Those of the crew who go must enlist for 
two years, and the principal officers will have com- 
missions from the President. The ship will be com- 
manded by a naval officer, of course. Now, I have 
an enlistment paper here, and all who stand by the 
ship must sign it. Who will — ” 

He was interrupted by a loud knock at the door; 
but Gil apparently did not hear the knock. He was 
picturing himself walking down the gangway with the 
cowards, jeered and hissed by the men who stayed. 

“ Come in I ” Mr. Crane shouted. 

The door opened, and a telegraph messenger en- 
tered with a message between the covers of a little 
black book. 

“ Gilbert Standish he asked. 

Gil to this day has no recollection of signing the 
book and tearing open the envelope, but evidently 
the sound of his name aroused him. 

“As I was saying,” the chief went on, when the 
door closed upon the messenger boy, “all who wish 


io8 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


to Stand by the ship must sign the enlistment paper. 
Who will be the first man in this department to 
sign ? ” 

“ Gilbert Standish, sir ! ” Gil shouted, springing to 
his feet. And his name upon the paper was immedi- 
ately followed by those of Robert Crane and John 
Knowles. 

In a moment more the chief was gone, and young 
Knowles returned to his work. 

You must have heard from home in the nick of 
time,” Mr. Crane said, glancing toward the telegram 
that Gil still held in his hand. 

For answer Gil unfolded the paper and handed it 
over, and Crane read it aloud : — 

** Do your duty, and God bless you. Mother.” 

** Just what I expected of her!” Crane cried. *‘Ah, 
Standish, many a good American mother is looking 
into her boy’s eyes and saying that to-day.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 

“ r^ASSED, at 8.25 A.M., the U. S. Auxiliary Cruiser 

1 St. Louis, bound out.” 

So signalled the ship news reporter from the Sandy 
Hook station on the morning of May i. It was a 
Sunday morning, too ; but with an enemy’s fleet cross- 
ing the ocean and many of our harbors almost un- 
defended, warships were doing a work of necessity 
in sailing as soon as they could be made ready. It 
was known that a Spanish fleet, commanded by Ad- 
miral Cervera, was approaching our coast, but just 
where it was or where it would strike no one knew. 
The first work of the St. Louis was to And out. 

In one week the St. Louis had been changed from 
a passenger ship into a cruiser. No sooner was her 
freight out than she was taken to Tompkinsville, on 
Staten Island, where two rapid-fire guns and twelve 
three-inch guns were mounted, and seven thousand tons 
of coal put on board. 

So great was the haste that Captain Goodrich, of the 
navy, her new commander, did not even stop to give 

109 


1 10 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


her the coat of dull gray paint that was applied to all 
the other warships, and she went to sea with a shining 
black hull. 

The St. Louis was just the ship that was needed in a 
hurry. It was necessary to learn where that Spanish 
fleet was, with its formidable torpedo-boat destroyers, 
and what port it was heading for, that our own fleet 
might be sent to head it off and engage it. With her 
tremendous speed she could run from port to port, 
from sea to sea, and give the earliest information. Her 
modern guns and her crew of nearly four hundred men 
made her powerful enough to handle a whole fleet of 
merchantmen; but she had no protective armor, and 
with a battleship or even an armored cruiser she would 
have had no chance at all. If she met a real fight- 
ing ship, her strength was in her speed ; she must run 
for it, and such a watch must be kept, abow and abaft, 
by day and by night, as was hardly ever kept on a ship 
before. If she ran under the guns of a hostile battle- 
ship by accident, she was a doomed ship. 

As the beautiful vessel steamed past Sandy Hook, 
every man on board was alert, for the Spanish fleet 
was such a mystery that it might be encountered close 
under our shores. From the commander down to the 
last boy, every person on board was alive with patriot- 
ism and anxious to give the first news to our fleet of 
the whereabouts of the enemy. Gil Standish was in 
his stateroom, making a few remarks to the newest boy 
in his department. 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. Ill 

“This won’t do, Hunter,” he said, running his 
hand along a brass rail and showing the smudge that 
soiled his fingers. “We must have these brasses so 
you can see your face in them. You’ll have to do 
these over again.” 

Tom Hunter muttered something under his breath, 
and began to give the rails a fresh coating of the 
brown polishing mixture that smelled like peach 
kernels, which he carried in a copper tray with the 
cloths and chamois skins he used for cleaning. 

Gil was afraid he was going to have trouble with 
the new boy, who had been taken in a hurry and 
without the usual careful inquiries in the haste to 
get the ship off. 

For Gil was no longer scouring brasses himself, but 
was no less a person than the officer in charge of 
the refrigerating plant, with a corresponding increase 
in salary. This was only one of many changes that 
had been made in the crew of the St. Louis in the 
week that she had been preparing for the navy. He 
did not even know of it when he was at home on his 
three days’ leave to say good-by ; but when he re- 
turned to the ship he found that the third engineer 
had declined to go to war, and that his friend Ben 
Hanway, the fourth engineer, had gone up a step. 
Then Mr. Crane had been made fourth engineer, 
and Gil had been given his place, and Tom Hunter 
had been taken on to complete the refrigerating crew. 


I 12 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

So the war had made one promotion for Gil already, 
though it was so evidently a matter of necessity that 
he could not take much credit to himself for it. 

While Gil was looking over the log-book that he 
was now compelled to keep, Ben Hanway stepped 
into the room and sat down. 

“ What do you think of this, Standish ” he asked. 
“ Did you ever see the Samt with a bigger bone in 
her mouth than she had this morning. I guess we’ll 
get there ahead of time.” 

It was a common thing for the crew to call their 
ship the Saint when they wanted to be specially 
affectionate ; and the “ bone in her mouth ” meant the 
wave of foam in front of her bow when she was 
making great speed. 

“She’s like an express train,” Gil answered. “Since 
we got into the lower bay she’s been doing twenty-three 
or twenty-four knots, I should say. But what do you- 
mean by ‘ getting there,’ Ben ? Do you know where 
we’re going } ” 

“Not a bit of it,” Ben laughed. “Not a soul on 
board knows yet, though we can all guess pretty well. 
We’re under sealed orders. Do you know what that 
means } ” 

“ Not exactly,” Gil replied. “You know I’ve only 
been in the navy two or three days.” 

“ It means just what it says,” Ben explained. “ The 
Navy Department thinks a secret is best kept when no- 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


13 


body knows it, and I guess that’s about true. They 
don’t want the public to know where we’re going, so 
they put our orders in an envelope and seal them up, 
and instruct the commander to open them when he is 
so many miles out to sea. That’s what they call ‘sealed 
orders,’ and we’ll know by noon to-day where we’re 
bound for. We know already, in a general way, that 
we’re to hunt the Spanish fleet.” 

“That’s a big enough job,” Gil laughed, “when it 
may be anywhere in the North Atlantic, the South 
Atlantic, the Caribbean Sea, or the Gulf of Mexico.” 

“Yes, a greenhorn would look at it that way,” Ben 
assented ; “ but when you get down to scientific facts, 
it’s not such a big job, after all. You see a modern fleet 
has to put in somewhere for coal, and that’s how we’ll 
catch ’em. They may go in to Porto Rico, or some 
Cuban port, or any port in the lower West Indies. 
That’s where we’ve got to watch, and that’s where we’re 
bound to find them.” 

“ And then ? ” Gil asked. 

“Then run for it,” Ben laughed. “We don’t want 
to run, but we must. If we should meet the Spanish 
fleet and stay to fight, they’d sink us in a minute, and 
we’d do no good at all. But if we run for it and give 
timely notice to our own fleet, we do a great deal of 
good. And nobody need say we’re cowardly because 
we’ve got to run. A single shot put through us might 
send us to the bottom, and we run a much bigger risk 


I 14 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

than the men on a battleship. Just let our watch grow 
careless once and get us within range of a Spanish 
cruiser, and it’s good-by to the Saint and all her crew.” 

“ I know it,” Gil answered thoughtfully. “ But we 
must take our chances A man don’t go to war without 
knowing what he’s about. If we get a shot through us, 
we’ll go down in a good cause.” 

“ I must go and have some sleep before we meet the 
Spaniards ; I’m just off watch,” Ben said; and he went 
out whistling “Yankee Doodle,” and Gil turned his 
attention again to the new boy. 

“I’m afraid you’re not putting enough muscle into 
this job. Hunter,” he said kindly. “ See here ; this rail 
is still dirty.” As he spoke he rubbed his hand along 
the rail and again soiled his fingers. 

“ I can’t make the rail no cleaner,” Hunter growled, 
and threw his scouring-tray into the corner, in a passion. 

“ Pick up that tray,” said Gil. 

Hunter made no answer, but stood scowling. 

“ Pick up the tray,” Gil repeated. 

Still no answer, and Hunter did not move to obey 
the order. 

It was a very unpleasant situation for the new chief 
of the refrigerating plant. To have trouble with one of 
his crew before they were fairly out of the bay would 
look like poor discipline, but he knew the necessity of 
having all his orders obeyed. 

The new boy’s manner was very exasperating, but 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. I I 5 

Gil kept his temper and tried to make every allowance 
for his inexperience. Perhaps he remembered how 
short a time it was since he had been the boy himself, 
and how in those days a kind word was more effective 
than harsh usage. 

“ See here, my boy,” he said, after waiting to think 
a moment, ‘‘you’ll only make trouble for yourself by 
behaving in that way. It is necessary for every one on 
the ship to obey orders, you among the rest. I am 
willing to overlook your conduct because you are just 
beginning, but you must take your tray and go to work. 
Bring it here till I show you how you can make the 
rail shine.” 

“ I’ve worked enough on the dirty rail,” Hunter 
growled. 

He was so defiantly disobedient that Gil was left no 
alternative. If he did not bring the new boy to terms 
now, he would never have any control over him. 

“ This is the last time I shall ask you,” he said ; 
“ are you going to obey orders.? ” 

Again Hunter refused to answer, and did not move. 

According to all the rules of sea-fiction the young 
officer should promptly have knocked the offender 
down and pummelled him into subjection on the spot ; 
and Gil was no doubt able to do it, though the new boy 
was quite as large as he, and a few months older. But 
modern sea-customs are as much improved as modern 
ships. 


Il6 CADET STANDTSH OF THE ST. LOUIS, 

When Gil rose from his seat Hunter squared off with 
his fists as if to defend himself ; but Gil only smiled at 
that, and quietly pressed his thumb against an electric 
button. Then he wrote upon the top sheet of a small 
pad that lay on his desk, “ No. 342 refuses to obey 
orders. G. Standish, Refrig. Plant.” 

Three hundred and forty-two was Hunter’s crew 
number. Every man on the ship had his number, 
and was officially known by it. 

In a minute or two one of the engineer’s stewards 
knocked at the door, and Gil tore off the sheet and 
handed it to him. 

“Take that to Captain Goodrich,” he said. 

Young Hunter looked surprised, for he knew little 
about the ship’s rules and was on the watch for an 
exercise of physical force; but he soon relapsed into 
his former expression, glaring alternately at Gil, at 
the brass rails, and at the copper tray. Gil, how- 
ever, paid no further attention to him, but went on 
quietly with his work. 

In a few minutes the steward returned with the 
message : — 

“ Captain Goodrich wishes to see Mr. Hunter imme- 
diately.” 

Hunter quickly washed the worst of the black from 
his hands and face and started for the captain’s cabin, 
and when he returned he was quite a new boy. He 
picked up the tray without a word and fell to work, 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


II7 


scouring the rails as he had never scoured them before. 
After about five minutes of this work he paused a 
moment and turned to Gil with : — 

“The captain says I have acted very badly, sir. 
I’m sorry. I’ll try to obey orders in the future.” 

“ All right,” Gil answered, as pleasantly as if nothing 
had happened. “You can make things either pleasant 
or unpleasant for yourself, you know ; it all rests with 
yourself. But orders have to be obeyed, whatever 
happens.” 

It was the first time that Gil had seen this discipline 
enforced in his department, and he was a little sur- 
prised to find how excellently it worked. He knew 
that for a first disobedience of orders Captain Goodrich 
spoke kindly to Hunter, explaining the necessity of 
discipline and giving him some good advice. That is 
the rule not only on all naval ships, but also on the 
American Line ships in time of peace. But he knew, 
too, that if such a thing happened more than once to 
the same man, the culprit would not escape so easily. 
For a second offence he would be severely lectured 
by the captain; “well called down,” as the boys called 
it; and for a third offence he would be put in irons 
and imprisoned in the dark “ cooler ” on a bread and 
water diet till he came to a proper frame of mind. 

This was Gil’s first experience at discipline as com- 
mander of the refrigerating plant, and he was delighted 
to find that the comparatively mild method was so 


Il8 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

effective. A few words from the captain had made 
a new boy of Hunter, and he seemed as anxious now 
to please as before he had been sullen and obstinate. 
But Gil was too busy to give as much attention to it 
as he would have given a few weeks before, and too 
much occupied with the exciting events that were 
crowding upon him. He could hardly realize yet that 
he was really in the United States Navy, an important 
member of the crew of one of the fastest ships in that 
or any other service, and that he and his comrades 
might be under fire at any moment. 

Toward the end of the morning watch, when Gil had 
gone down into the engine room to see that Knowles, 
who was on duty, was keeping everything running 
smoothly, Ben Hanway stepped into the stateroom 
again. Learning from Hunter that “ Mr. Standish ” 
was below, he went down to the engine room. 

Heard the news ? ” he asked. 

‘‘No,” Gil answered. “What is it.?” 

“ We’re bound for Cuba first thing,” Hanway con- 
tinued. “ Wouldn’t a lot of fellows in both army and 
navy give a good deal to be in our boots .? Yes, sir, the 
sealed orders have been opened, and we’re ordered to 
Santiago direct. We’ll be there before dayhght on 
Wednesday morning, at this speed.” 

“ Santiago ! ” Gil exclaimed ; “ why, that’s on the 
south side of the island. I was in hopes we might be 
sent to Havana.” 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. I I9 

“Ah, but Santiago is much better,” Hanway replied. 
“That’s where we’re likely to do the best service. You 
see Cervera’s fleet is supposed to be somewhere down 
in the lower West Indies, and they believe he is try- 
ing to reach Santiago. So they want us there to help 
watch for him, and give early news of his coming. We 
couldn’t have a better berth than that.” 

“Well, the Navy Department must know best,” Gil 
laughed. “ I’m glad we’re going right into the thick of 
it at first, anyhow. There’s no use going to war with- 
out having — ” 

But he did not finish his patriotic sentence, for at 
that moment the voice of Hunter called down the 
companionway : — 

“ Steamer on the port bow, sir ! ” 

It was no part of his business, of course, to make this 
announcement, but he heard it reported on deck, and 
knew that his messmates would be glad to know of it. 

Gil instantly started for the companionway; but 
Hanway laid his hand upon his arm and stopped him. 

“No use being in a hurry, Standish,” he said. 
“You’ll not see anything for half an hour yet. With 
such a watch as we’re keeping on this ship, they’re sure 
to report the first puff of smoke half an hour before you 
can see anything from the deck. Just look at the watch ! 
A man at each masthead, one at the bow, two on the 
bridge, and one at the stern, besides every son of a sea- 
cook in the crew keeping his eyes peeled. If an empty 


120 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


bottle floated within five miles I believe they’d report it. 
Take it easy, and after a while you may see something.” 

“Whatever it is, we’re sure to overtake it,” Gil 
agreed. “There’s nothing afloat can run away from 
us, anyhow.” 

“ That’s what we’re here for,” Hanway laughed. 
“ You see already how useful the old Saint can be. 
We can overtake anything, and make short work of 
anything but a man-of-war.” 

After a few minutes’ talk about the strange steamer, 
and the possibilities of her being an enemy, they went 
on deck together, to find everybody who was not on 
duty looking over the port rail at a cloud of smoke far 
away to the southeast, and two masts that stood up like 
needles, and a hazy, dark object beneath them that they 
knew to be the hull of the vessel, though it was very 
indistinct 

Hanway ran down to his room for his glasses, and 
when he returned with them he could make her out 
quite plainly. 

“ She’s no enemy,” he soon announced, “ or she 
wouldn’t be lying there like that. She sees us, of 
course, but she’s lying to. She’s not big enough for a 
warship ; a steam yacht, I should say, schooner rigged. 
But she shows no colors, and that’s odd. Take a look 
at her, Standish, and see what you make of her.” 

Gil took the glass and spent a few moments getting 
it set to suit his eyes. 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


2 


*‘Yes,” he said, “she looks something like a yacht; 
she must be a yacht, unless she’s a torpedo-boat 
destroyer. But I never saw a destroyer, so I don’t 
know how they look. Why on earth don’t she show 
her colors ? ” 

Ah ! she’s getting under way, and heading right 
across our bows, toward the southwest ! ” Hanway ex- 
claimed. At their great speed they could see her 
plainly now with the naked eye. “ She’ll get a gentle 
hint in a minute or two to introduce herself, if she don’t 
show her colors.” 

The words were hardly out of his mouth before 
there was a terrific crash up forward that shook 
the whole vessel and for a moment almost deafened 
them. 

The St. Louis had fired her first shot in the war ! 
Only a blank cartridge, to be sure, from one of her 
powerful six-pounders, a delicate request for the 
stranger to stop and give an account of herself. 

“ Now you’ll see her colors go up in a hurry ! ” 
Hanway exclaimed. “ No, she’s going to run for it. 
She’s changing her course to give us a view of her 
stern. Down with you, Standish ! ” 

These last four words he fairly shouted ; and before 
Gil realized what was happening Hanway threw his 
weight upon him and bore him to the deck. Almost 
at the same instant they heard a distant “ boom ! ” from 
the strange steamer, the shriek of a solid shot over- 


22 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


head, and some fragments of wire rigging that had 
been shot away fell to the deck with a clatter. 

“ Hello, here ! that looks like business ! ” Hanway 
cried, as he sprang up and helped Gil to his feet. 
“ Excuse me, Standish, for throwing you down. I saw 
the puff of smoke, and my first impulse was to duck 
behind something. We’ll all get over that before we’ve 
been under fire many times, but I suppose it’s natural. 
She’ll get some pills now out of our six-pounders, if 
I’m not mistaken.” 

“ Oh, I hope so ! ” Gil answered. His blood was 
well up with the excitement of being under fire, and he 
felt like running forward to help man the guns. “ But 
she can’t pretend to fight us — that little thing.” 

Ah, but that little thing may have a better battery 
than ours ! ” Hanway answered ; and she can’t have 
thinner sides. That shot she gave us was heavier than 
any six-pound gun can carry.” 

Crash went another gun in the bow of the Sl Louis, 
Then her course was changed slightly to give her port 
bow gun a chance, and that was fired also. Each time 
a solid shot skipped over the water, in a dead line for 
the stranger. But the distance was too great, and the 
shots fell short. 

And all this time the stranger was not idle. Before 
the St. Louis came to her course again a short section 
of her port rail was gone, carried away by one of the 
yacht’s heavy shots, that took also one of the awning 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


23 


stanchions on the other side, and went on its way with- 
out doing further damage. 

There were not a dozen men on board the ship who 
had ever been under fire before, and Gil looked around 
with some anxiety to see how they would stand it. 
For his own part he was so full of fight he quite forgot 
that he was one of the greenhorns himself. The deck 
was full of men who were off duty, who were all cool 
and collected till it was found that one man, a stoker, 
had been cut in the arm by an iron splinter. As he 
was carried off bleeding, there were some signs of 
nervousness. 

“ Remember the prize money, boys,” an old man- 
of-warsman shouted, waving his cap. “We’ll have 
that steamer inside of an hour.” 

This was too much for Gil. Just how it happened 
he never exactly knew, but the next moment he found 
himself standing on a coil of rope, waving his cap 
furiously, and shouting at the top of his voice : — 

“ Hang the prize money ! Remember the Maine, 
boys ! Remember the Maine! ” 

Instantly the shout was taken up by all within hear- 
ing, and like a flash it spread from one end of the 
deck to the other : “ Remember the Maine ! ” 

“You got that in just at the right moment, young- 
ster,” said Hanway, who was by his side again. “ But 
look here. I want you to look at the stranger and tell 
me what you think. Take the glass.” 


24 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“She’s going to run for it,” Gil declared, with the 
glass to his eyes. “And we’re after her. And — it 
can’t be — but upon my word it looks to me as if she 
was gaining on us ! ” 

“That’s just the way it looks to me,” Hanway an- 
swered. “ She’s a flying dutchman if she can run 
away from the St. Louis'' 

The fact that no more shots were fired from either 
ship confirmed their suspicions, showing that the dis- 
tance between them had become too great for shots 
to be effective. And if the astonishment was great 
among the men on deck, it was far greater on the 
bridge, where Captain Goodrich stood watching the 
enemy through his glass. Run away from the St. 
Louis ! Why, the idea was absurd ; no ship afloat 
could do that. But there was the yacht ahead, still 
refusing to show her colors, and putting a broader 
stretch of water between them every minute. 

At first they all refused to believe the evidence of 
their eyes ; but it soon became too plain to be doubled. 
The St. Louis was doing at least twenty-four knots an 
hour, and the yacht in front of her was forging ahead 
so fast that she must be making from thirty to thirty- 
five knots. 

In the early part of the chase Gil felt as if he must 
crowd more steam on his own engine, though that 
little machine had nothing in the world to do with 
moving the ship. The stranger was not only a flyer. 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


125 


but a deep mystery, totally unknown in American 
waters. 

Such a swift enemy was a menace to the entire coast, 
and it was highly important that the St. Louis should 
capture her. But with every pound of steam on her 
boilers, and every stoker shovelling in coal till he was 
ready to drop, the St. Louis could not catch her. It 
was plain that unless the stranger broke down she 
would escape. 

Captain Goodrich was not the man to give up while 
there was the slightest hope, and he continued the 
chase after the stranger’s hull had disappeared and 
only her masts were visible, and still held after her 
when nothing was to be seen but a thin trail of smoke 
from her funnel. After several hours, however, even 
the smoke disappeared, and all trace was gone. 

It was the middle of the afternoon, or a little after, 
when the chase was abandoned, and the officers and 
crew of the St. Louis were not only disappointed, but 
de^jdedly crestfallen. If the stranger had whipped 
them in a fight, they could hardly have. felt worse over 
it. Their glory was in their speed, and here was an 
enemy that could laugh at their twenty-four knots ! 

“ It’s one of the mysteries of the sea, youngster,” 
Hanway said, when he and Gil had a chance to meet 
again. “ I don’t pretend to explain it. I thought we 
could catch anything with a keel to it.” 

“So did I,” Gil replied. “That’s knocked some of 


26 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


the conceit out of us, anyhow. And the first day out, 
too! We’ll know more before we come home.” 

They were to know more sooner than he imagined, 
for the next minute there came a cry from aloft : — 
Steamer on the starboard bow I ” 

More than one man on the cruiser hoped that it 
might be the yacht waiting to exchange another shot 
with them; but there was little chance of that. The 
chase had taken them westward, toward the coast, more 
than fifty miles, and they soon found that the new 
steamer was approaching them ; and she proved in a 
few minutes to be the City of Augusta^ of the Savannah 
line, bound from Savannah for New York. 

As soon as she was close enough the St, Louis 
slackened her speed and ran up the signal : — 

“ We want to speak you.” 

The sea was too heavy for them to approach one 
another nearly enough for the use of the megaphone ; 
but when she saw what the other was, the passenger 
ship dipped her colors and blew her whistle, and 
stopped her engines when they were nearly abreast. 

In less than a minute a huge blackboard was run up 
into the rigging of the St. Louis, bearing the words, in 
great chalk letters : — 

“HAVE YOU SEEN A — ” 

That was all the first time, for the distance was so 
great that the letters had to be made very large. The 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


127 


City of Augusta dipped her colors again, to show that it 
was understood, and the board was lowered, to be hoisted 
again immediately with the rest of the message : — 

“STEAM YACHT, SCHOONER RIGGED?” 

Once more the merchantman dipped her flag ; and in 
a moment more they saw her blackboard rising in the 
rigging. 

“ Here, Standish,” said Hanway, “ take the glass and 
get into the shrouds and tell us what she says.” 

As there was no other glass at that part of the deck, 
a little crowd gathered around to hear Gil’s report. He 
stepped up into the shrouds, and levelled the glass at 
the distant board. 

“ No,” he read, very slow and distinctly. “ Have — 
you — heard — the — news ? ” 

The men were all eager now to hear, though disap- 
pointed that nothing had been seen of the swift 
stranger. The same dipping of flags followed, and the 
cruiser’s board went up again, bearing the words, “ No. 
Let’s have it.” 

There was deep silence in the little group, and Gil 
had to take time to the next message, there was so 
much on the board. Then he read, as loud as before : — 

“HEREFORD LIGHT SIGNALLED US AS 
FOLLOWS: DEWEY’S 
FLEET IS OFF MANILA BAY, AND — ” 


128 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


It was as well that there was a break there in the 
message, for no further words could have been heard 
amid the storm of cheers. There was warrant for the 
commotion, for the men could see that the officers on 
the bridge were as much excited as themselves. 

“ Sh ! Sh ! ” some of the older hands commanded ; 
the distant board was going up again. Gil felt that his 
voice trembled as he read the next words : — 

“AN INTERCEPTED SPANISH DESPATCH 
SAYS THE CITY AND THE 

SPANISH FLEET ARE AT HIS MERCY.” 

It was more than a shout that greeted this announce- 
ment ; it was a roar that went all over the ship, for 
many glasses from many parts had been levelled at 
the board. Men and boys hugged one another. 
Gil was squeezed nearly breathless by Han way, then 
cuffed over the head in pure joy by some unknown 
hand. 

The infection spread to the ship itself. Here blos- 
somed out a flag, there a flag, till in a minute or two she 
was gay with bunting, and the rapid-fire guns in the 
fore and main tops began to spit fire. 

It was a great sight for the passengers on the other 
boat to see a warship cutting up high jinks, and they 
crowded the decks and waved their hats with glee, and 


DEWEY IS HEARD FROM. 


129 


cheered themselves hoarse, though the cheers could not 
be heard. And the Saint answered with the deeper 
tones of two of her six-pound guns, as she was per- 
fectly justified in doing upon hearing that with the first 
blow of the war the enemy was about to be completely 
swept from the Pacific. 

K 


CHAPTER IX. 


IN THE ENEMY S WATERS, 


ID you notice, Mr. Standish,” Jack Knowles 



L' asked in the stateroom that night, when Gil 
came up from his turn on watch, “that that steamer 
said the news about Manila had been signalled to her 
from the Hereford lighthouse ? I don’t understand 
how a lighthouse could signal the news.” 

“It couldn’t, in ordinary times,” Gil answered; “at 
least it wouldn’t. But since the war began every life-sav- 
ing station on the coast, and every lighthouse, has been 
made a signal station. That is so that news can be 
sent rapidly along the coast, if the enemy’s ships should 
be sighted. And they give the news to passing vessels, 
as far as they can.” 

“ Oh, that’s it, is it ? ” Knowles continued. “ Then 
the news is official, of course. We got it just in time 
to rub out the soreness over losing that yacht. She 
gave us enough metal to make us understand that we’re 
really at war, didn’t she } ” 

“ She did that,” Gil assented. “ It was a good thing. 


IN THE enemy’s WATERS. 


3 


too, and it’s taken a great weight off my mind. Do you 
know I have been afraid ever since I enlisted ? ” 

“Afraid!” Knowles echoed. “I’ve never seen you 
act as if you were afraid.” 

“Yes, I’ve been in fear all the time,” Gil admitted. 
“ I was afraid I might de afraid when we were under 
fire. Nobody can tell, you know, how he’s going to 
act at such a time till he has a trial. I knew my head 
wouldn’t be afraid, but how could I tell what my body 
was going to do ? It might do something cowardly in 
spite of me, and that would be a thousand times worse 
than being killed. But it’s all right now. I was a 
little excited this afternoon, but not a bit scared.” 

“ Ah, I guess fellows who feel that way about it don’t 
often get scared under fire,” Knowles laughed. “ That 
yacht had big enough guns to sink us, if she’d had the 
pluck to stay and fight ; but I don’t think anybody was 
scared. We were all anxious to have it out with her.” 

Gil was under the impression that after the work and 
excitement of the day he should be asleep as soon as 
his head touched the pillow. But he was mistaken 
about that. There were so many things to think about, 
and lying in his berth was such a capital place for 
thinking. 

It seemed like an age since he had Seen his mother 
and Rose and the old home, though it was only a few 
days. And what, he asked himself over and over, was 
he doing for them, or likely to do for them ? He was. 


*32 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


to be sure, in the service of his countr)' ; but still he 
must not forget that he had others to think of and pro- 
vide for. He had sent home the greater part of his pay 
every month, and that was more now than ever ; but it 
was not a millionth part enough, he felt, to make up to 
them for his absence from home. 

And how was it all going to end ? he wondered. Not 
the war ; no American had a moment’s doubt how that 
would end ; but what effect was it going to have upon 
him and his fortunes, provided he came through it alive ? 
It had long been the belief in his family that if our 
country once took up the cause of Cuba, their lost 
estate would soon be restored to them. Now that 
very thing had happened, but how was it going to bring 
back the estate ? Cuba was to belong to the Cubans, 
so our government said, and the Cubans might prove as 
rapacious as the Spaniards had been. 

“But it’s barely short of treason to be thinking of 
such things,” he said to himself, as he turned ovxr once 
more and tried to settle do^Ti to sleep. “ What is our 
little plantation, compared with the good of the coun- 
try? Uncle Sam first, my own poor affairs afterward. 
But I wish we’d captured that mysterious steamer this 
afternoon.” 

By the next afternoon there was a sensible change in 
the temperature. The air had been raw and chilly in 
New York bay, except when the sun shone bright ; but 
now it was soft and balmy. Gil had stood the forenoon 


IN THE enemy’s WATERS, 


133 


watch, from eight o’clock till noon ; and when he fell to 
work at his log in the afternoon he found some figures 
before him that surprised him, and he went into Han- 
way’s room to compare notes with him. 

“ I wonder whether these figures can be correct, 
Hanway ? ” he asked. “ Do you make it 593 knots to 
noon to-day ? ” 

“ That’s just what it is,” Hanway answered. ** Eighty- 
seven knots from the start up to noon of yesterday, and 
506 knots from noon to noon. And I reckon that we 
lost between two and three hours chasing that schooner, 
too; no wonder it makes you open your eyes. We’re 
just about in the latitude of Charleston now. Never 
heard of a steamer going from New York to Charleston 
in twenty-five hours before, did you.? No, nor any- 
body else. 

“If this was in times of peace,” Hanway went on, 
“ everybody would be talking about the fastest southern 
voyage that ever was made, for no steamer has ever 
come south so fast before. You see the southern 
steamers are not built for great speed, like the Atlantic 
liners. But this is war, my boy, and people have other 
things to talk about. Look here.” 

He took up a pad and rapidly made some calculations. 

“New York to Hatteras,” he continued, “is 400 
miles; Hatteras to Watling’s Island, 700 miles; Wat- 
ling’s to Cape Maisi, 275 ; Cape Maisi to Santiago, 
125. There’s a total of exactly 1500 miles that we 


34 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


have to go. At our present speed we will do it in 
sixty-eight hours (including three hours lost in chasing 
the schooner), or two days and twenty hours. It never 
was done before in that time.” 

“Well, figure this up for me, Ben,” Gil interrupted, 
with the suspicion of a smile about his mouth. “ If 
the St. LotiiSy the fastest ship in the world, makes 
twenty-one knots an hour, and chases a steamer mak- 
ing thirty-five knots, how long will it take to catch 
her.?” 

“ Never you mind, youngster,” Hanway replied. 
“ The Samt is a flyer, no matter who beats her. Some 
time to-night we’ll be among the Bahama Islands, and 
before noon to-morrow we should pass Watling’s Island, 
where Columbus made his first landing; Cape Maisi, 
which is the eastern end of Cuba, to-morrow night, and 
Santiago before daylight on Wednesday morning.” 

“Provided we chase no more steamers,” Gil suggested. 

“ Provided we chase no more steamers,” Hanway 
assented. “ And it don’t look much like it, does it .? 
We’ve not sighted smoke or sail since we spoke the 
Savannah steamer. You see we’re out of the track of 
commerce ; and commerce is lying pretty low just now 
anyhow, on account of the war.” 

Perhaps it was as well that when the St. Louis passed 
Watling’s Island next morning about an hour before 
noon she was too far away for the crew to see any- 
thing but a long dark spot, with some cocoanut trees 


IN THE enemy’s WATERS. 


135 


rising from it. They were all eager to see the land 
upon which Columbus first set foot on this side of the 
world, and a close inspection might have disappointed 
them, for the island is little more than a low heap of 
sand, brightened but hardly improved by the thick 
tropical vegetation. 

But if they saw little of the island, they were re- 
minded that they were nearing their destination and 
running into dangerous waters, for at noon that day the 
watch was doubled. They thought before that the 
watch was about as strict as it could be made ; but 
where one man was before, two men were stationed 
now. There was need for watchfulness, for they were 
within twelve hours of the eastern end of Cuba. 

Almost every hour the air became warmer, and the 
sea more smooth. Gil had read in the newspapers of 
the large number of American vessels about the Cuban 
coast; but they were mostly in the neighborhood of 
Havana, and there was no sign of them or of any 
other boats but a few venturesome fishing smacks 
from the decks or mastheads of the St. Louis. All was 
as peaceful as an ordinary run across the Atlantic ; 
and more quiet, notwithstanding the greater size of the 
crew. Still every man on board the ship, Gil among 
the rest, began to feel that active and dangerous work 
was close ahead. 

At half-past three that afternoon (and as' dates are 
important in such matters, we must remember that it 


136 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

was Tuesday, the third of May), Gil was surprised by 
a visit from the chief engineer. The chief made his 
one visit of inspection every day, but beyond that he 
seldom appeared in Gil’s department, unless his advice 
was needed about something. 

“ All hands on duty, to-night, Mr. Standish,” he said, 
“ beginning with the first dog-watch. We are just get- 
ting into the Crooked Island Passage, and soon after 
dark we shall be in the enemy’s waters. Every man 
is expected to be on the alert.” 

“Very well, sir,” Gil answered; and although the 
order deprived him of a night’s sleep, he was glad to 
receive it. It was a welcome order to nearly every 
man on the ship, for it gave them all a chance for an 
early view of the rich island upon which the eyes of 
the whole world were turned, and on whose coasts most 
of the fighting was expected to be done. 

“ Land on the starboard bow ! ” was reported by the 
lookouts at about ten o’clock that evening, and by 
eleven they were fairly rounding Cape Maisi, the east- 
ern point of Cuba. 

“ That is worth coming to war for ; almost worth 
being shot for, to see such a sight as that,” was Gil’s 
verdict, as he and Ben Hanway stood looking over the 
rail. “ I did not imagine there was such a beautiful 
spot in the world.” 

There was some reason for his enthusiasm, though 
compared with many other West Indian scenes Cape 


IN THE ENEMY S WATERS. 


137 


Maisi is barren and commonplace. The Spaniards had 
extinguished the light in the lighthouse, knowing that 
it would be of service to their enemy ; but they had 
no control over nature’s great lighthouse in the sky, 
and the May moon, within three days of being full, 
bathed the bold landscape in its soft light. It was 
almost as bright as day, and they had a full view of 
the rocky point, the narrow plateau, and the mountains 
rising behind, terrace upon terrace, with almost as much 
regularity as if measured off by a landscape gardener ; 
and higher yet the rugged crags and peaks stretching 
up nearly into the clouds. The awful solitude added 
to the weirdness of the scene, for no human being en- 
livens the landscape, and for miles and miles there is 
no human habitation save the little stone dwelling of the 
light-keeper. 

During the remainder of the night the mountains of 
Cuba were in sight, and there was hardly an hour with- 
out its fresh excitement. Toward three o’clock in the 
morning the lights of a vessel were sighted as they 
passed the harbor of Guantanamo, and there was every 
probability that she was a friend; but no risks could 
be run, and the St. Louis immediately opened a con- 
versation with her by firing a rocket. In naval lan- 
guage the rocket said : — 

“ I am the St. Louis. Who are you } ” 

There was an anxious interval of about a minute, and 
then an answering rocket went up from the other ship. 


138 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“The Marblehead r' was joyfully shouted on the 
flyer’s decks as the men read the signal; and before 
the shout died away the fighting cruiser fired a welcom- 
ing salute for the newcomer, which the St. Louis an- 
swered with her six-pound guns. 

From Guantanamo to Santiago is less than fifty 
miles, and before daylight the St. Louis was riding 
safely in front of the great castle at the mouth of 
Santiago harbor, close beside the Yale and two gun- 
boats; and the rising sun presently threw his golden 
beams upon a scene compared with which the vaunted 
bay of Naples is insignificant, a beauty spot whose 
name was destined soon to take a glorious place in 
the history of American skill and valor. 


CHAPTER X. 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. 

HE St. Lotiis will proceed to Guantanamo shortly 



1 after midnight to-night, accompanied by the 
Marblehead and others, to cut Spanish cables.” 

This brief extract from a much longer order was 
posted in the engine room of the St. Louis, for the 
information of the engineers, within six hours after the 
ship’s arrival at Santiago. 

“They’re not going to let us waste any time, are 
they ? ” Gil laughed, as he went in to see Ben Hanway. 
“That ought to give us some lively work, for we’ll 
likely have to do the cutting under the fire of some 
of their forts.” 

“ Right under the forts of Caimanera,” Hanway 
answered, and began to whistle, “There’ll be a hot 
time in the old town to-night,” which was more expres- 
sive than words. “ But they’re giving us a chance to 
send a farewell to our friends. I suppose you know 
that one of the gunboats is about to start for Key 
West ? So you can send letters home.” 

“ Yes, and the Yatikee is expected here every minute. 


140 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


SO I hear,” Gil replied, “ so we may possibly get some. 
I just brought back your wrench, with the thanks of 
the refrigerating department, and I’m going back to 
write my letter. I’ll see you to-night, at Guantanamo.” 

“ Yes, under the shadow of the forts,” Hanway 
laughed ; and Gil hurried to his room to do his writing. 

No one knew better than he that cutting cables under 
the fire of the forts was going to be dangerous work, 
and that some of them were probably at that moment 
writing their last letters. But he had wisely deter- 
mined never to write his mother of what they were 
about to do, and so leave her in painful suspense till 
the next letter came. It was far better, he thought, 
to tell her of what had already been done, when the 
danger was past. 

“ It is glorious here in front of the old castle,” he 
wrote, “and the only thing lacking is not having you 
all here to help enjoy it. I almost wish girls could go 
to war; I think Rose would fight like a Turk. The 
Castle of Santiago occupies a high, rocky hill on the 
eastern side of the narrow mouth of the harbor, and 
it is so old and weather-stained that it is hard to tell 
what part is natural rock, and what was built by hands. 
The rock at the base has been eaten into by the waves, 
making deep caves. If we could get a good charge of 
dynamite into them, we might blow the whole thing into 
the air. 

“I do not see how any spot on earth could be as 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. I4I 

beautiful as this. The green mountains, the castle 
painted in many dim colors, pale blue, pale yellow, 
faded pink, and crumbling in some places. 

“ ‘ How far are we from the Spanish guns ? ’ I know 
you will want to ask. Well, I should say about four 
miles from the castle. But this morning we ran up to 
within about a mile and a half, just for practice, and let 
her have a little metal from our six-pounders. Of 
course such small guns could do it no harm, but we saw 
the stones and dust fly whenever one of our shots 
struck. They fired about twenty shots at us with their 
big guns, but hit nothing. They say the Spanish 
gunners rarely hit anything. That makes twice I have 
been under fire, ai^d it does not seem to be dangerous. 
I shall go home a scarred veteran, I hope ; but whether 
the adjective is to be spelled with one r or two, remains 
to be seen. 

“ The map will show you that I am at this moment 
within twenty miles of our plantation ! How I should 
like to see it. But I might as well be a thousand miles 
away, for there is no earthly chance to go ashore. But 
strange things happen in war times, and we must wait 
and see.” 

Not a word about the danger he was sure to be in 
within a few hours, though he knew it would be greater 
than either he or Han way had mentioned, for it had 
been whispered about the ship that they were to shell 
the forts, and for an unprotected vessel like the 5/. 


142 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

Louis there was no safety except in the poor gunnery 
of the Spaniards. A great cheer went up from the 
deck of the unprotected cruiser at one o’clock next 
morning when the Marblehead arrived from the east- 
ward and the St. Louis hoisted the lights that signalled : 
“ Follow as ordered, at half speed.” They were off for 
their first real fight in the war, and in cutting the cables 
they would help cut off Havana from the rest of the 
world, and there might even be a chance to achieve 
some glory. 

The St. Louis led the procession. Then came the 
Marblehead and the Yankee^ the latter having arrived 
as expected, but bringing no mails. And in the rear 
were two small gunboats, the largest gunboat on the 
spot being left behind to guard the entrance to Santiago 
harbor until the return of the squadron. 

It was hardly necessary to repeat the order of the 
previous day, “ All hands on duty to-night.” There 
was not a man in the little fleet who would have turned 
in for anything short of positive orders. 

Half speed was soon found to be too great, and the 
St. Louis hoisted a signal to slow down. At this 
greatly reduced speed the fleet reached the entrance to 
Guantanamo harbor just as the rising sun began to gild 
the rocks and forts on shore, as Captain Goodrich de- 
sired ; for this left him time for a full day’s work, if 
necessary. 

Caimanera, both town and forts, lay about a mile 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. 


143 


inside the harbor mouth, on the western shore ; 
and as the ships majestically rounded the point and 
steamed leisurely in, the sunrise gun was fired from 
one of the forts, and the Spanish colors rose to the 
top of the staff. 

“ Better save your powder ; you’ll need it to-day,” 
Gil said to himself, as the report of the sunrise gun 
echoed in the hills beyond. He had been on watch 
from midnight till four o’clock, and so was at liberty 
till noon, and stood watching events over the port rail. 

Not a signal now, for everything had been arranged 
beforehand, and each ship knew precisely what its 
station would be unless the orders were changed. On 
they went, slowly and quietly, their guns bristling 
as if impatient for action, the much greater guns of 
the forts frowning angry defiance. Not a shred of 
bunting was displayed on any one of the ships, for the 
ship time was a few minutes slower than shore time, 
and the American sunrise had not quite arrived. Not 
a sound from ships or forts. It looked as if each 
were waiting for the other to begin the fight. 

“ Stop ! ” said the bells in the engine room of the 
5/. Louis. Slowly the Marblehead forged ahead, as 
had been arranged. She was the real fighting ship 
of that little squadron, and she must bear the brunt 
of the battle. None of them more than a mile from 
shore, but the gunboats slightly sheltered by the 
larger ships. “ Crack ! ” from one of the bow guns 


144 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


of the St. Louisy followed by a flash of fire from 
one of the Marblehead' s greater guns, and instantly 
the stars and stripes floated proudly over every 
ship. 

That was the signal for which a thousand gallant 
Yankee tars were waiting. The reports of the guns 
had hardly died away before a rain of metal began 
to thunder against the stone walls of the nearest fort. 
The heavy guns of the Marblehead, and the lighter 
but still very powerful ones of the St. Louis and 
Yankee, began their work ; and the smooth bay, so 
peaceful and quiet a moment before, became a tropi- 
cal pandemonium. The first shock of the big guns 
was still deafening the gallant Americans when the 
rapid-fire guns on all three of the ships opened fire, 
adding the sharp crack of heavy musketry to the 
furious booming of their stronger comrades. 

It was a grand sight, before the smoke obscured it, 
to see the heavy masses of metal tearing away corners 
of the fort, and others, exploding, throwing little vol- 
canoes of stone and sand. But a battle is not all on 
one side, and the forts were not idle. The crash of 
their guns was soon heard, and the deadly whistle 
of their missiles, which at first were far too high, and 
passed over the fleet without harming it. The Span- 
iards had a great advantage, however, in the use of 
smokeless powder. They could always locate the 
ships by the flashes in the densest masses of smoke. 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. 


145 


while the Americans were enveloped in the cloud, 
and soon had no view of the shore. 

Gradually the Spanish shots came lower and lower, 
and on the St. Louis bits of the rigging were carried 
away and fell to the deck in a dangerous shower. 

Still Gil stood close by the port rail. There was 
some one by his side now, but in the din and excite- 
ment he did not notice who it was. A great crash in 
the rear, made by one of the gunboats steaming up and 
delivering a volley, caused him to turn his head for a 
moment, and in that moment something struck him full 
in the face and chest, and he fell to the deck like a log, 
with streams of blood running down his face and neck. 

When he came to his senses it seemed to him as if 
he must have been unconscious a long time, though it 
had been only for a moment. It flashed upon him that 
a cannon ball had struck him in the face, and when 
he opened his eyes it was almost with the expectation 
of seeing his mangled head lying about somewhere. 
Something was the matter with his legs, too, for he 
could not move them ; and his clothes were soaked 
with blood. 

There was a weight upon his legs, and hearing a 
groan from the weight restored him to the full use of 
his faculties. His head, he found, was still upon his 
shoulders, and when he raised himself to a sitting pos- 
ture he discovered that young Clark, who had once been 
one of his bosses, was lying across his legs with a deep 


146 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


gash in one cheek, which spouted blood so furiously 
that his own gory condition was easily accounted for. 
He sprang up and called help to carry Clark to the 
surgeons, and not till that was done did he know ex- 
actly what had happened. But the state of the rail 
soon told the story. A Spanish shot had struck it and 
carried away about eight feet of it, and Clark, the man 
who was standing beside him, had been struck in the 
face by some flying fragment ; and it was his body, not 
a cannon ball, that had sent Gil sprawling. 

Meanwhile the firing continued on both sides, though 
the Spaniards were evidently weakening. A welcome 
puff of wind came down from the hills and cleared 
away the smoke, and instantly, between the crashes, 
there arose a mighty shout from the decks of all the 
ships : — 

“ Ah ! Ah ! See the Dons go ! Remember the 
Maine I Remember the Maine!'' 

For the road between the forts and the town of 
Caimanera was full of Spanish soldiers running as fast 
as their legs would carry them, and hundreds more 
were fairly falling over each other in their haste to 
abandon the forts and escape from the deadly Ameri- 
can fire. But the Spanish fire was by no means si- 
lenced. A dangerous rain of metal still poured from a 
large battery further up the hill, and one bastion of the 
larger fort still held out unharmed. 

The St. Lonis took advantage of the absence of 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. 


147 


smoke to hoist some signals, which the men watched 
eagerly. 

“ Gunboats proceed to cut cables,” the signals read ; 
and at that moment Ben Hanway came up behind 
Gil. 

“ The gunboats are going to take their medicine 
now,” he said; “I tell you — ” But at that moment 
Gil turned and faced him, and Hanway paused in 
astonishment. “ What kind of a gory veteran are 
you, anyhow ? Say, you look as if you’d eaten a 
Spanish regiment for breakfast. Are you hurt } ” 

“ No,” Gil answered. “ It’s Aleck Clark’s gore, not 
mine.” 

Well, upon my word,” Hanway continued, taking 
Gil by the shoulder and holding him off for a better 
view, “ your folks at home would give a bag of money 
for a picture of you just as you look now. ‘ Gilbert 
Standish as he appeared while whipping the Span- 
iards in Guantanamo Bay.’ They ought to send you 
ashore to take the forts alone. One sight of you 
would scare the Dons away.” 

Gil was indeed a sanguinary sight. A severed 
artery in Clark’s cheek had spurted blood upon him 
for at least a minute, and it had begun already to 
harden and stiffen his clothes. He had wiped the 
thickest of it from his face with his handkerchief, 
leaving it in streaks. He had thrown off his coat to 
make a temporary rest for Clark’s head, and his white 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


shirt-sleeves were stained and spotted with red. His 
hat was gone, too, and his hair was matted and 
gory. 

“Never mind,” he laughed; “there’s plenty of 
water on board. What worries me is standing here 
looking on. Next time I come to war I’ll be a fighter, 
Hanway, not an engineer.” 

“ Oh, don’t worry your little mind, my child,” Han- 
way answered. They were talking as. coolly, under 
that heavy fire, as if there had been no Spanish guns 
on shore. “There’s no telling what may happen be- 
fore our work’s done. There go the gunboats, and 
they’re going to have a hot time of it. 

“ I don’t mind telling you,” he continued, “ that 
we haven’t accomplished what we expected — not so 
far. How do I know } Because I have eyes in my 
head to see with. It’s not hard to see what the idea 
was in this morning’s work. There’s only one fight- 
ing ship in the fleet, and the St. Louis and Yankee 
certainly would not have been brought here for any 
serious business. The plan was to destroy the forts 
at the first blow, and leave the way clear for us to 
cut the cables. We can’t give them a harder dose 
than we gave them at first.” 

“No,” Gil agreed; “we’ve given them the hottest 
fire we can.” 

As he spoke, a shell that must otherwise have passed 
between them burst about twenty feet from the ship’s 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. I49 

side, scattering a shower of missiles in every direction. 
The two men looked significantly at one another, but 
did not flinch. 

“Well,” Hanway continued, “we haven’t silenced the 
forts. That battery on the hill and part of the larger 
fort are intact, and are still pounding us. So the first 
part of our plan has failed, for driving a few of their 
men out doesn’t amount to much. But Captain Good- 
rich isn’t the man to give up such a job. He will 
cut those cables anyhow, and we’ll have to do it under 
fire. So there’s a chance for hot work coming, and 
you don’t need to fret about having nothing to do.” 

“ How many cables are there ? ” Gil asked. 

“ Three, I understand,” Hanway replied ; “ two large 
and one small one. And the small one is the most 
important, for that is the one that supplies Santiago 
with news. And we don’t want them to know any- 
thing about Cervera’s fleet.” 

The two gunboats had gone shoreward meanwhile 
and were dragging for the cables, utterly regardless of 
the heavy fire that was now directed mainly upon them, 
but keeping up an incessant fire themselves. 

In a few minutes a cheer from a group of men for- 
ward indicated that something had happened ; and 
as the men were all looking toward the forward gun- 
boat, Hanway raised his glass to see what it was. 

“ Good enough ! ” he shouted. “ There’s one cable 
accounted for. When they begin to swing the axe, 


150 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

you may be sure they’ve got a cable. Take a look, 
Standish.” 

Gil took the glass, and saw that the gunboat had a 
large chopping-block up forward, upon which one of 
the men was chopping off lengths of cable with an 
axe as fast as a half-dozen others could draw it in. 

A long interval followed this first success, during 
which the gunboats continued to drag for cables, all 
the ships returning the heavy fire that still came from 
the forts. It was only too evident that the batteries 
of the fleet were not sufficient to silence the big land 
battery or the lower end of the first fort, and that the 
remainder of the work must be done under fire. 

At length a second cable was caught and cut; but 
"the small cable had not yet been found, and that was 
the one that was most wanted. It seemed hours that the 
gunboats worked away under a fire that would have 
annihilated them if the Spaniards had been better 
marksmen ; but still there was no sign of the small 
cable. 

“ Now what’s up } ” Hanway asked, half of himself, 
as one of the gunboats turned and steamed toward the 
flagship. 

“I hope they haven’t disabled her. No; she seems 
to be all right.” 

Right up to the St Louis^ as close as she dared, the 
gunboat came, and they could see her captain talking 
to Captain Goodrich, who was still on the bridge. 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. I5I 

They had no means of knowing that the gunboat had 
reported that the water was too deep for them to 
grapple the small cable, and that the only chance 
was to send a small boat of light draft close in shore, 
into the shallow water. But they could guess it from 
the order that was immediately given from the bridge 
and repeated along the deck : — 

“ Lower a launch to cut cables ! ” 

Every man on the ship who was not on duty either 
with the guns or with working the vessel was on 
deck, and every man knew that to go right under the 
fire of the fort in the little launch was to court almost 
certain death. 

“ Volunteers for the launch ! ” came in a strong voice 
from the bridge. 

There had been noisy shouts on the deck of the 
St. Louis before, but never one to equal the eager 
cry that greeted that request. Every man on deck 
who could leave his post rushed madly toward the 
bridge, some with both hands in the air, others wav- 
ing their caps, all shouting at the tops of their lungs 
in the hope that the captain might see and select them. 
It was a service of extreme danger if not of certain 
death, and every man on deck volunteered for it on 
the spot. 

A smile of satisfaction spread over Captain Goodrich’s 
face as .he saw the stuff his brave boys were made 
of. He raised his hand a moment to command silence. 


152 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


then turned to consult one of his officers, and in less 
than a minute the officer stepped forward and read 
from the back of an envelope the names of the men 
who had been selected. 

“ Ensign Walcott,” he read, Engineer Standish, 
Cotsell, Alderoft, Preston, and Jeffrey.” 

Amid a cheer from the men the six fortunate ones, 
as they considered themselves, made a rush toward the 
launch, which was already in the water, with steam up. 
As Gil reached for the rope to slide down, Hanway laid 
a hand upon his shoulder. In an instant their hands were 
clasped and they looked affectionately into one another’s 
eyes, realizing that they might never meet again. 

“ You are very young, Standish,” the brave engineer 
said; “let me take your place.” 

“Not for millions!” Gil exclaimed. “Take charge 
of my things, old fellow. If I don’t come back, write 
to my folks.” 

The last words he called out as he was sliding down 
the rope, and next minute the launch was away, with 
block and axe in the bow, grappling-irons hanging by 
the sides, and six gallant men aboard, who, as the little 
launch ran closer every moment into the hail of fire and 
metal, shouted back in answer to the cheers from the 
cruiser’s deck. “ Remember the Maine ! Remember 
the Maine!'' And the cheers spread from ship to 
ship, and a thousand Yankee tars shouted their en- 
couragement, and envied them their luck. 


THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. 


53 


With Ensign Walcott in command, and Gil in charge 
of the little engine, the launch steamed at the top of her 
speed directly toward the shore, heading for a point 
about midway between the remains of the block-house 
where the cables landed, and the lower end of the 
larger fort. It was well understood, though not ex- 
pressed in words, that the only chance of success lay 
in making a quick dash for it, for the launch could not 
be expected to keep afloat long under the deadly fire of 
both fort and battery. 

Ensign Walcott had made up his mind that the best 
point for grappling was about four hundred yards from 
shore, at such an angle with the fort that not more than 
two or three of its guns could well be trained upon him, 
though the battery beyond would still have full sweep. 
And amidst the flying shot the swift little boat made 
her best time for that spot, the men eager for their 
deadly work, encouraged by the swarms of comrades 
on the ship who crowded every available place to watch 
and cheer them. 

The best-laid plans sometimes miscarry, as the gal- 
lant ensign soon found. When the launch reached the 
appointed spot, her colors shot away, the top of her 
brass-coated funnel in tatters, and Preston lying bleed- 
ing in the bottom of the boat, the grapnels were brought 
into use, and it was discovered that the bottom was 
covered with jagged rocks, among which the grapnels 
had no chance to seize the cable. Several times they 


154 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


grated against it, and almost had it, only to be thrust 
aside by a sharp corner of rock. 

It was a trying moment, with the balls whistling 
about them and cutting the water on all sides. Their 
own danger was unthought of ; but the launch itself, 
upon which all their hopes of success lay, could not live 
for many minutes under that terrible fire. It was little 
short of a miracle that she had not already been blown 
out of the water. 

At this critical time, when nothing seemed to be left 
for them but ignominious retreat, Gil saw a chance to 
do something for his country. He had kept a sharp 
eye upon the grapnel ropes, and knew that the depth 
of water was from twelve to fifteen feet. Nobody 
noticed when he stooped down and rapidly unfastened 
and pulled off his shoes ; but all eyes were turned upon 
him a moment later, when he sprang up in his place 
and tore off his vest. 

“ Keep her steady a moment, Mr. Walcott ! ” he 
cried ; and before the astonished ensign could reply, 
he had plunged headlong into the riddled waters of 
Guantanamo bay. 

At the very moment of the dive, but too late for Gil 
to see, Cotsell fell forward from his seat, deluged with 
blood, and a small shot, evidently from a rapid-fire gun, 
tore its way through the starboard side of the launch, 
below the water-line, making a jagged hole through 
which the water poured in a torrent that would soon 


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THEY SPRANG FORWARD AND SEIZED IT, AND FAIRLY LIFTED GIL INTO 

THE BOAT. 




THE HERO OF GUANTANAMO. 


55 


have sunk her if Alderoft had not plugged it with his 
coat. 

It seemed an age that Gil was in the water, though it. 
was in reality about one hundred and ten seconds. 
But at length his head and shoulders appeared ten 
feet away, and with a few quick strokes with one hand 
he reached the boat and seized the gunwale. With 
one hand only, for the other hand was gripped like a 
vice around the missing cable. 

Jeffrey and Alderoft, seeing what he had, sprang 
forward and seized it and fairly lifted Gil into the boat, 
and within a minute the cable was lying across the 
block in the bow and the sharp axe was severing it. 

On board the ships they saw the axe descend and 
knew that the work was done, and cheer after cheer 
came across the water. 

“ Bravo, Standish ! ” the ensign cried. “ Cheerily, 
boys ! get a good length of it for souvenirs, and we’re 
off.” 

It waa a slender thing, about an inch and a half in 
diameter, and they drew thirty feet of it into the boat 
and cut it again, and at Walcott’s order Gil opened 
the throttle, and the boat made a graceful sweep toward 
comparative safety. Gil had no time to wring the 
water out of his clothes or to think of what he had 
done. The cable was cut, and that was enough, and he 
was lucky to have a chance to pull on his shoes. 

But it was another story when the launch reached 


156 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

the St. Louis in safety. The men on board had seen 
the plucky dive, but they could not distinguish the 
man who made it. A hundred voices would have 
asked the question, and some indeed had already asked 
it, when Gil’s dripping clothes answered it once and 
for all. 

As Gil climbed up the ship’s side, nothing was 
further from his thoughts than being made a hero. 
Soaked first with blood, then with sea-water, exhausted 
and shivering, he wanted nothing half so much as the 
bath-tub and dry clothes, when his ears were greeted 
with cries of : — 

“ Standish ! It was Standish ! Three cheers for 
Standish ! ” 

It was nine cheers and a roar that they gave him ; 
and in the midst of it Ben Hanway had him in his 
arms and was hugging him, dripping as he was ; and 
his admiring comrades seemed in a fair way to pull 
him to pieces, when the officer of the deck stepped up 
and stopped the commotion by saying : — 

“Well done, Standish. Go and change your clothes, 
sir.” 

And even in the privacy of his own bath-room, 
which was not remarkably comfortable in a ship under 
a heavy fire, he was not to be left in peace ; for while 
he was washing off the remains of Clark’s clotted blood, 
a steward tapped at the door with the message : — 

“ Captain Goodrich wishes to see you at once, sir.” 


CHAPTER XL 


THE NEWS REACHES HOME. 

O N Saturday, the seventh of May, Mrs. George W. 

Standish sat by one of the sitting-room windows 
of the Cairo house, looking thoughtfully out at the 
pouring rain. Spring had come in the Catskill region 
so far as to bring rain instead of snow, but the air was 
still raw, and the mantle of white had not entirely dis- 
appeared from the mountain tops. 

Mrs. William J. was making over an old dress, and 
Rose was reading the newspaper of the day before, 
which was so full of war news that there was hardly 
room for anything else. Great were the prophecies in 
those days of the wonderful things that Uncle Sam was 
going to do. To run over to Havana some morning 
and take it by storm before breakfast would be only a 
little amusement for our army and navy. The Presi- 
dent had called for only one hundred and twenty-five 
thousand volunteers, but that was because one Ameri- 
can could easily whip five or six Spaniards. We could 
put an army of a million men in the field in thirty 
days. But that was before we had learned from ex- 

157 


158 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

perience that even twenty thousand men put in a field 
are very likely to grow cold and hungry and to fall sick 
and die unless preparations have been made before- 
hand to feed and clothe them, or that a million men, 
even brave and eager Americans, are useless in war 
until properly armed and equipped. 

Rose was as ignorant of such matters as the 
rest of us were then, however, and her heart 
swelled as she read of the great things we were 
going to do. 

“ I don’t believe it’s worth while for you to go down to 
the post-office in this storm. Rose,” Mrs. William J. sug- 
gested, looking up a moment from her work. “ You’d 
get soaking wet, and we can’t possibly have a letter 
yet from Gil. He has just nicely reached Cuba by this 
time, and we may hear in a week or so. And I sup- 
pose we can wait a little for the paper. The rain may 
stop by and by.” 

If Gil had been home, he would instantly have seen 
the look of disappointment that came into his mother’s 
face. Indeed, he would have discovered long before 
that she was nervous and uneasy every morning until 
the mail came. Mrs. William J. was not much given 
to nerves, and she hardly saw that her sister-in-law 
took any unusual interest in public affairs. Rose 
noticed that her aunt was anxious for the mail, but she 
did not see down into the suffering heart as Gil would 
have seen with his eyes shut. 


THE NEWS REACHES HOME. 


59 


Oh, I think I may as well go,” Rose replied. “ If 
I bundle up well, this rain will not do me any harm. 
We all want to see the paper, you know.” 

“No, I think it would be a shame to let you go out 
in this storm, and you with such a cold,” Gil’s mother 
objected, starting up from her seat. “Just you sit 
still, and I’ll put on my big cloak and run down my- 
self. I need a little fresh air, anyhow.” 

But Rose insisted upon going, and after the familiar 
amount of friendly bickering she set out. 

Under ordinary circumstances, with no letters, no 
mail but the newspaper, she would have returned home 
slowly, reading the paper as she walked.. But this 
rainy morning it was more convenient to put the paper 
under her waterproof and hurry home, and in a very 
few minutes her wrappings were thrown off and she 
stepped dry-shod into the sitting room and handed it 
to her aunt, with the melancholy announcement that 
there were no letters. By common consent Mrs. 
George W. always had the first chance at the paper 
after it reached the house, for it was her boy who had 
gone to war and from whom they were ever on the look- 
out for news. Rose noticed that her aunt’s hand was 
a little shaky as she took the paper and tore off the 
wrapper, but she had noticed that often before. If she 
had watched more closely, she would have seen that the 
reader’s eyes were almost instantly fixed upon one 
particular part of the paper and did not wander over 


6o 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


the page ; and that her expression, at first anxious and 
eager, soon became fixed and stern. 

Neither of them noticed this at first. But they did 
think it strange that she was so long silent, for she gen- 
erally read at least the headings aloud. This time she 
did not open her firmly set lips, but sat absorbed in 
one of the articles before her. It was the usual long 
heading with the short despatch under it, and she read 
it through twice, slowly and carefully, before any one 
spoke. 

Then Rose, startled by the look in her aunt’s face, 
stepped toward her. 

What is it, aunty ? ” she asked. “ No bad news ? ” 

Before Rose could reach her Mrs. George W. was on 
her feet. With her thumb at the top of the article she 
handed Rose the open newspaper; and then putting 
her handkerchief to her face she hastily quitted the 
room. 

By this time Mrs. William J. was on her feet too, 
for it was plain that there was news, and she expected 
nothing but that the St. Louis had been sunk and Gil 
drowned. 

“ Oh, mother, listen to this ! ” Rose cried ; and with 
trembling voice she read the big heading : — 

“ Fight in Guantanamo Bay ! 

Caimanera Forts Destroyed — Important Cables Cut. 

Auxiliary Cruisers Give Battle. 


m- 


THE NEWS REACHES HOME. l6l 

St. Louis and Yankee Take their Baptism of Fire. 

Great Bravery of a Greene County Boy. 
Engineer Standish Dives from a Launch Under the 
Fire of the Forts and Secures the Last Cable. 

The Marblehead Demolishes the Forts.” 

But Rose could not get beyond the heading. With 
every line her voice had grown more shaky, and when 
she came to the name of “ Engineer Standish ” she 
broke down completely and threw herself into a chair 
and buried her burning face in her hands. It was then 
that her mother took up the paper and continued the 
reading : — 

Guantanamo, May 6, via Cape Haitien, midnight. — 
The forts of Caimanera were completely destroyed by 
an American fleet yesterday, and all the cables cut. 
At sunrise the Marblehead, St. Louis, Yankee, and two 
gunboats steamed into the harbor and immediately 
opened fire. 

“ The intention was to destroy the forts at the first 
onslaught, as several of the vessels, notably the St. 
Louis, were unarmored and not fitted for such work. 
But this failed, and the cables had to be cut under the 
galling fire of one fort and a large battery on the hill- 
side. 

“There were two large cables and one small one, the 
latter by far the most important. The gunboats cut 


M 


i 62 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


both large ones, but could not find the small one, and a 
steam launch was lowered from the St. Louis to find 
and cut it further inshore, almost under the forts. 

“ Upon a call for volunteers for the launch, every 
available man on the St. Louis rushed forward, eager 
for the dangerous work. The crew chosen was as 
follows : Ensign Walcott (in command). Engineer Stan- 
dish, Cotsell, Alderoft, Preston, and Jeffrey. 

“The launch ran at full speed into a perfect hail- 
storm of missiles, losing her colors and being well 
riddled before she began to drag for the cable. 

“ The bottom was found to be so rocky that the cable 
could not be grappled, and the attempt was about to be 
abandoned, when Engineer Standish plunged head-first 
into the water in the midst of the hail of heavy shot, 
and in a minute came to the surface with the small 
cable in his hand. It was immediately cut, and the 
crippled launch returned to the ship. 

“ Preston was dangerously wounded in the launch, and 
Cotsell was instantly killed. The launch itself is a 
wreck, but it is to be saved as a valuable relic of the 
war. In his report to the department. Captain Good- 
rich has specially commended Engineer Standish for 
great bravery in action. 

“After the cables had been cut the St. Louis and 
Yankee returned to Santiago, as their mission was ac- 
complished. The Marblehead and the two gunboats 
remained, and reduced the forts after a heavy action of 


THE NEWS REACHES HOME. 


163 


about four hours. They afterwards sailed for Santiago 
without landing marines or occupying the deserted 
town. 

“ At the office of the American Line it was learned 
last night that Engineer Gilbert Standish was in the 
company’s employ before hostilities began. He comes 
from Cairo, Greene County, in this state, and is barely 
eighteen years old. The Superintendent of the line 
says it is no surprise to him to hear that young Stan- 
dish has distinguished himself. That he is a brave lad 
who will do his duty under all circumstances. He is 
also an expert swimmer, having saved the Superintend- 
ent’s son from drowning before he entered the service 
of the company.” 

“ Boo, hoo, hoo ! ” Rose gasped, as the reading con- 
cluded, her head still buried in her hands. 

.“And here’s the girl who wanted to go to war her- 
self ! ” her matter-of-fact mother exclaimed. “ What 
is there to cry about.? Hasn’t Gil done his duty, as 
a boy should .? And isn’t he all safe and well .? I don’t 
see what more you can ask.” 

Rose recovered herself as quickly as she had broken 
down, and retorted that she “guessed it was natural 
to feel a little excited when her own cousin was such 
a hero.” 

And what of Gil’s mother all this time .? We must 
give her the poor privilege of the solitude she sought, 


164 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

and not presume to follow her to her favorite thinking- 
place, the attic where the black trunk still stood. 
Whether she was on her knees or not we can only- 
guess ; but we can stop long enough to wonder whether 
the real heroes of the war are all found on the field 
of battle. It was a brave thing that Gil did in Guan- 
tanamo bay, and other gallant boys did other brave 
deeds along those Cuban shores. But if some of them 
could have been at home to see the anxiety, the sink- 
ings at the heart, the dreadful watching of the lists 
of killed and wounded, they would have seen that the 
heroes were not all in uniform. 

The very best thing happened to the Standish house- 
hold before either Rose or Mrs. William J. ventured 
upstairs to interrupt Gil’s mother. There came a 
violent ring at the bell, and when Rose went to* the 
door, taking time enough in the hall to remove every 
vestige of her recent tears, she found D. K. Stevens 
outside, dripping with rain, and holding in his hand an 
open newspaper, as wet as himself. 

“Why, D. K.,” she exclaimed; “you’ll be washed 
away. Come in and get dry.” 

It is only strangers in Cairo, you must remember, 
who ever call D. K. “ Mr. Stevens.” To every resident 
of that region, from High Peak down to low-water 
mark of the Hudson River, he is simply D. K. 

“ I can’t stop a minute,” D. K. answered, shaking 
the rain out of his whiskers. “Just ran up to the post- 


THE NEWS REACHES HOME. 1 65 

office. But I had to come in a minute after I saw the 
paper. Have you heard the news ? ” 

“Yes, we’ve got the paper,” Rose replied. “It’s 
upset us dreadfully. But isn’t he — isn’t it splendid, 
D. K. .? ” 

“ Upset you ! ” D. K. repeated, as he stepped into 
the sitting room. “ Why, I thought you’d be too proud 
to let me talk to you. I should be, if I were in your 
place. Everybody’s talking about it. Next time Gil 
comes home he’ll get a big reception, I guess. Cairo 
always comes to the front, you know, and Gil is just the 
boy to show them we’re alive up here. But just think 
of diving for a cable through all those cannon balls ! 
Why, listen to this — ” 

And D. K. turned to the part of the description that 
pleased him best and began to read. And Gil’s mother, 
hearing what was going on, could not stay away ; and 
for the next half-hour Gil’s ears must have tingled, if 
there is any truth in that old saying. 

It did seem as if the climax of fame had been 
reached next morning when the minister prayed ear- 
nestly for “ that brave young defender of his country, 
our fellow-townsman, whose heroic deed in the face of 
the enemy has startled the whole world.” But fame is 
an uncertain fellow at the best, coming of a short-lived 
family ; and Mrs. Standish began to suspect that Duty 
is a much bigger word than Glory, when the next 
week’s Catskill paper came along. 


l66 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

So glorious a deed performed by a resident of the 
county could not pass unnoticed by the local news- 
papers ; and the editor of the one in question shrewdly 
suspected that this hero might at some time or other 
have been photographed by some one of the Catskill 
artists. This suspicion proved to be well founded, and 
the editor became possessed of a picture that Gil had 
had taken before he was sixteen years old. But with 
all his shrewdness he could not foresee what a dreadful 
mess the engravers and printers and proofreaders would 
make of it. 

When the paper was opened, the Standish family 
were at first indignant ; but their indignation soon 
changed to merriment , for there in a prominent place 
was a big black splotch of printer’s ink in which noth- 
ing could be distinguished but the end of an old-fash- 
ioned round-cornered collar, and an explanation under 
it that this was the portrait of 

“ Gilbert Slaudish, of Cairo, 

The Hero of Gnantanawo.” 


CHAPTER XII. 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. 

W HEN the commander of a warship wishes to see 
a member of his crew at once, he is not to be 
kept waiting. Gil would have been glad if he could 
have taken time to make a better toilet before entering 
the sacred precincts of the captain’s room, but it must 
not be. With his hair still matted, collarless, and with 
his best uniform coat hastily thrown on, he hastened 
to obey the summons. 

After the ovation he had received on deck, it was 
perfectly natural for him to believe that his exploit in 
the launch had something to do with his being sent for 
by the captain ; and he began almost to wish that he 
had let the cable alone. 

“ It will be terrible if he is going to talk to me about 
that,” he said to himself. “ I’d rather dive for more 
cables than go through such an ordeal. I don’t think 
he can blame me for anything, but it would be pretty 
tough for a fellow to have to stand there with his hat 
off to hear himself praised.” 

However, he had not much time to think about it. 
167 


l68 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

He saw that both the St. Louis and the Yankee were 
under way and heading for the mouth of the harbor, an 
order having been given while he was changing his 
clothes for the Marblehead and the gunboats to remain 
and shell the forts, and in a minute more he was in 
the captain’s room, where Captain Goodrich sat by his 
open desk. He had hardly saluted before the captain 
opened the conversation in a way that surprised him. 

“ I see you are not afraid of powder, Standish. Do 
you speak Spanish } ” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil answered, trying not to look as much 
astonished at the question as he felt. 

“ So I am told,” the captain went on. “ But I want 
to know how well you understand the language. Do 
you speak it fluently ? ” 

The last sentence the captain asked in Spanish, and 
Gil smiled and immediately felt more at ease. The 
captain’s accent showed that he had the Annapolis 
brand of Spanish, and he knew that his own knowledge 
of the language was far superior to that. 

“Yes, sir,” he replied in Spanish, “I speak it as 
readily as I speak English.” 

“Ah, I see you do!” the captain laughed. “You 
could carry on a conversation with a Cuban, using the 
idioms of the country, could you ” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil answered. “I know the idiom very 
well.” 

“ So well that they would not take you for an 
American } ” 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. 


169 


“I know the idiom and the customs of the country so 
well, sir, that I think I could pass for a native,” Gil 
replied. 

“ How would you like to undertake a dangerous 
mission on shore } ” the captain suddenly asked, in a 
changed tone ; “ where you would be likely at any 
moment to get a bullet through you > ” 

“Very much indeed, sir!” Gil answered; and the 
fearless young American certainly spoke the truth. 

Captain Goodrich sat for some moments drumming 
on the desk with his finger-tips. 

“ Of course you will understand,” he continued at 
length, “ that what I say to you is not to be repeated. 
I want a daring young man for such a service, and I 
shall select you. You will thus pass under the im- 
mediate orders of Commander McCalla, of the Marble- 
head, as his ship will remain on this station, while the 
St. Louis may go elsewhere at any time. He will give 
you your detailed instructions at the proper time ; but 
you are the man for this work.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” Gil replied. And he considered a 
moment whether he was bound in honor to say more, 
and concluded that he was. 

“ I should like such work better than anything else, 
sir,” he added; “but it is only fair to tell you that I 
never was in Cuba in my life. My uncle lived here 
for some years, and he taught me the language and 
customs of the people. But he took pains to teach me 


170 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


thoroughly,” he concluded, after a little pause, lest the 
captain might think he was trying to avoid the duty. 

Again the captain drummed on his desk before 
speaking. ** I think you are the man for the service,” 
he said; and Gil was ready to jump for joy, though 
naval etiquette required that he should stand at 
attention. 

“The only drawback that I see,” the captain went 
on, “ is your complexion. You are entirely too fair 
to pass for a Cuban. Darkened hands and face alone 
are not enough, for you may have to swim across 
streams, and your white skin would betray you. Ar- 
tificial coloring answers very well in detective stories, 
but it would be useless in such work as this. How- 

i 

ever, the Cuban sun will do a great deal for you in 
a few hours. Have you a suit of bathing-tights.?” 

“ Yes, sir,” Gil answered. 

“Well, wear them this afternoon instead of your 
clothes,” the captain ordered, with a smile. “Stay 
out on deck in the sun, and let one of the stewards 
keep you wet with sea-water. Sun and sea-water will 
give you the tint of a quadroon in a few hours. You 
are relieved from other duty until further orders. I 
detach you for special service ; and remember that 
it is a secret service. That is all.” 

With the naval salute and the naval sudden swing 
upon his heel, Gil retired from the captain’s room, 
and returned to his own quarters. The St. Louis 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. I/I 

was out of Guantanamo bay now, speeding westward 
along the coast toward Santiago. 

The order to get not only his face and hands, but 
his body also, browned by the sun did not surprise 
him as much as it would have if he had known less 
about Cuban customs. If he was to pass for a Cuban 
boy, — particularly a Cuban country boy, — he knew 
he must be prepared to wear his shirt open at the 
throat and well rolled back, exposing much of his 
chest. His trousers, too, must be rolled nearly up to 
the knees; and an exhibition of fair skin in either 
place would instantly brand him as a newcomer. 

“ It’s lucky I brought very sizable swimming-tights,” 
he said to himself, as he made ready to don his new 
and airy costume. “ They’ll half cover me, anyhow. 
If they were the very small kind, the fellows would 
think I was going to give them some kind of a 
show.” 

It was well enough at first out on a sunny part 
of the deck, when the steward brought a pail of sea- 
water and a big sponge to wet him every few min- 
utes. The crew were not backward about bathing 
whenever circumstances permitted ; and it seemed nat- 
ural enough that he should desire to wash off the 
remains of Clark’s gore. But when the sponging 
went on time after time, the steward always wetting 
but never drying him, he began to attract attention. 

“ What are you up to, youngster ? ” Ben Hanway 


72 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


asked, stopping in astonishment when he happened 
to pass. “You’d better get out of this sun, or you’ll 
be burnt sore.” 

“Oh, it’s all right,” Gil laughed. “I never blister; 
I only get brown.” 

“ Don’t you, indeed ! ” Hanway retorted. “ I guess 
you don’t know this tropical sun as well as I do. 
You’ll be laid up for a week it you stand here half 
an hour in that costume. Get something over your 
shoulders, anyhow.” 

Gil tried at first to laugh it off, and made excuse 
after excuse ; but Hanway was too fond of him to 
let him blister himself. It was not till the third en- 
gineer threatened to summon help to force him into 
the shade, that Gil explained as far as he could. 

“ See here, Ben,” he asked, “ if the captain or- 
dered you to get well sunburned and keep your mouth 
shut, what would you do ” 

“ Whew ! ” Ben whistled ; “ that’s the way the land 
lies, is it? Why, I’d obey orders, whatever they were. 
And if he’s given you such an order ” (here he put his 
mouth close to Gil’s ear and whispered), “ he’s going to 
send you ashore, and I wish I stood in your shoes. But 
there’s this about it, Standish,” he continued, in his 
ordinary tone ; “ it’s a dangerous — a dangerous pres — 
what is it they call it ? a dangerous president to set.” 

“ Precedent ? ” Gil suggested. 

“Yes, that’s it; a dangerous precedent. If the cap- 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. 


173 


tain can order us baked brown, he can order us 
bleached, or he may take a fancy to have us powder 
our faces and stick on a little rouge.” 

“ Well, I think we’d make a very handsome crew that 
way ! ” Gil laughed. “ It would be a heap easier than 
standing in the sun to be browned, anyhow. But don’t 
you ask me any questions, old man, and I won’t have to 
tell you that I can’t talk.” 

All of the crew, however, were not so lenient with 
what they thought Gil’s strange freak. One man came 
along with a rope’s end and announced that he had 
been ordered to administer thirty-nine lashes for jump- 
ing overboard without orders, but that he would remit 
the punishment if Gil would instantly dance a horn- 
pipe ; and he actually did lay on two or three lightly 
before Gil could get hold of the rope. And two others 
said that if he was ready for a swim he’d better get into 
the water; and they picked him up as if to toss him 
overboard, and doubtless would have done it if the ship 
had not been under way. 

“ Miss Fanny Johnson will now give her great heel 
and toe act,” a young gunner announced in passing, as 
he looked at Gil and laughed. 

“Oh, no,” Gil retorted. “John L. Sullivan will now 
give his great knockout act.” And the muscles in his 
bare arms must have looked formidable, for the gunner 
broke into a run when Gil good-naturedly started for 
him. 


174 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


These little familiarities, that were made possible by 
his unusual costume, were a positive relief to the young 
engineer. The necessary distinctions of rank on a 
naval ship were a little oppressive to one so sociably 
inclined as Gil. Among four hundred men crowded 
into the small space of a ship, he was almost alone. 
“ One-quarter of the men,” he often said to himself, 
“are above me in rank, and I cannot talk to them 
unless they speak first, the other three-quarters are 
below me, and it is contrary to custom for me to have 
much to do with them. If it wasn’t for Ben Hanway, 
I might as well be on a desert island.” 

It was a relief, too, when the sun sank so low on 
the horizon that it was useless for him to remain 
longer on deck, and he was at liberty to go below and 
put on his customary clothes. The result was very 
gratifying to him in one sense, for in the few hours his 
skin had attained a tawny hue that he had hardly 
thought it capable of. He was right about his merely 
tanning under the sun instead of blistering as many 
thin-skinned people do ; but even tanning under a 
Cuban sun is an unpleasant process, and every touch of 
his clothing gave him exquisite pain. However, he fol- 
lowed the old sailors’ plan, to “ bear it and look pleas- 
ant,” and soon appeared on deck in his best uniform. 

Captain Goodrich had left him very much in doubt 
as to what further orders he was to receive or when 
they were to come ; but as the Marblehead was then 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. 


J75 


approaching from the direction of Guantanamo, he 
imagined that the orders might come soon, and that 
was why he took the precaution to put on his best 
uniform. If he had to board another ship, it must 
not be in his working clothes. 

“ They seem to feel very sure about what’s going to 
happen in this war,” Gil said to himself, revolving in 
his mind an idea that occurred to many Americans 
about that time. “ They don’t say ‘ the Marblehead 
will stay behind to engage the forts at Caimanera, and 
if she succeeds in destroying them she will rejoin the 
squadron in a few hours.’ They put it more positively 
than that, and say that the Marblehead will stay and 
reduce the forts, and be with us again in a few hours. 
And here she comes, just according to programme, 
and it’s dollars to farthings the forts are knocked to 
pieces.” 

It was nothing unusual to see one of the smaller 
boats lowered, for messages were constantly passing 
between the ships; but it did sirrprise Gil, after the 
Marblehead had taken up her position near by for the 
night, to be sent for by the chief engineer, and to hear 
the order, Engineer Standish is to take the captain’s 
gig at once and board the Marblehead and report to 
Commander McCalla, with this note from Captain 
Goodrich.” 

It was well then that he was prepared for such an 
errand ; for how could he have kept the captain’s gig 


176 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

waiting, with its six men to row him in state to the 
Marblehead? 

There were many points of naval etiquette that the 
young engineer knew nothing about, but where he 
lacked the knowledge his good sense carried him safely 
through. When, for instance, his boat was nearing the 
Marblehead' s gangway and there came the sharp hail 
from the deck : — 

“Ahoy, there! What boat is that?” he promptly 
answered : — 

“ A gig from the St. Louis^ sir, with a messenger for 
Commander McCalla.” 

And when at the head of the gangway he found an 
officer waiting to receive him, he simply gave the usual 
salute and announced : — 

“ Engineer Standish, of the St. Louis, sir, with a 
message for Commander McCalla.” 

“ Step this way. Engineer Standish,” the officer re- 
plied, returning the salute; and in a minute more Gil 
was shown into the commander’s room, and stood hat 
in hand before Commander McCalla, just as he had 
stood a few hours earlier before Captain Goodrich. 

“Your captain has chosen you for a very dangerous 
service. Engineer Standish,” the commander abruptly 
began, after reading the note that Gil handed him. 
“ I suppose you understand that ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil replied; “Captain Goodrich has told 
me what it is.” 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. 


177 


“ And you — ” the commander began again ; but in- 
terrupted himself. “ Standish, Standish,” he repeated, 
turning again to the note. “ Are you the St. Louis 
man who dived for the cable this morning ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” Gil answered, and had some thought of 
adding that he was in no more danger in the water 
than out of it; but he wisely concluded that the less 
he said, the better. 

At this point the commander began to speak entirely 
in Spanish, and the young engineer made all his replies 
in that language. 

“ It is necessary,” Commander McCalla said, in the 
sort of Spanish taught at Annapolis, and which Gil 
could understand, though he often felt like smiling at 
the remarkable pronunciation, “it is necessary that I 
should give you some idea of the naval situation ; for 
when you go ashore you must know why you are there 
and what you are about. This is placing great confi- 
dence in you, and we expect you to repay it with the 
utmost fidelity and caution. That you are not wanting 
in courage you have already shown us.” 

“Thank you, sir,” Gil replied, blushing a little 
through his new Cuban tan. 

“ A strong Spanish squadron, under Admiral Cervera,” 
the commander went on, “ has set out from Spain for 
this side of the Atlantic — the strongest fleet that Spain 
can produce, consisting of the Pelayo^ the Carlos V, 
OquendOy Vizcaya^ Maria Teresa^ Cristobal Colon^ and 


N 


178 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

four deep-sea torpedo boats. Of course you have heard 
of this, and you probably think, like the public in gen- 
eral, that these ships are coming to harass the Ameri- 
can coast. But we in the navy know better than that. 
It is a fine fleet, but our own fleets are larger, better, 
and heavier, and they will not risk a battle with us if 
they can avoid it.” 

Several times the commander had stumbled over the 
Spanish words and stopped to correct himself, and with 
the next sentence he began to speak in English again. 

“ The Spanish believe that our first object is to cap- 
ture Havana,” he went on, “ and the destination of 
Admiral Cervera’s fleet is certainly Havana harbor, to 
add strength to the shore defences. It is now, accord- 
ing to our information, somewhere in the lower West 
Indies; and before trying to force our blockade at 
Havana it must put in at some friendly port for coal 
and repairs. Now our knowledge of the situation 
shows us that Cervera will make for Cienfuegos or San- 
tiago, or else for San Juan, in Porto Rico. Each of 
these ports is well watched, and our business on this 
station is to watch the harbor of Santiago, and give in- 
stant notice of the enemy’s approach. 

“The belief is so strong that Cervera will try to 
enter Santiago,” he went on, “that — and I must cau- 
tion you again that the utmost secrecy is necessary in 
this matter — that the North Atlantic Squadron is now 
within four or five hours of us. Admiral Sampson left 


MAKING A NEW CUBAN. 


179 


Key West early yesterday morning, and the New York, 
the Iowa, the Indiana, Terror, Amphitrite, Detroit, 
Montgomery, Porter, Wampatuck, and Niagara, are at 
this moment in the Windward Passage.” 

It made Gil’s heart thump to hear that this great 
American fleet was so near ; but he answered simply, 
“Yes, sir.” 

“We believe, as it is our business to believe,” the 
commander continued, “that Cervera will try to enter 
Santiago harbor ; and if he does, the great naval battle 
of the war will doubtless be fought in this harbor. 
Therefore we must have the most complete information 
about the harbor and its defences, the troops in the 
vicinity, and the condition of the city and neighboring 
towns. And if the Spanish fleet enters the harbor, we 
must know the exact situation of each ship.” 

“ I will do my best at it, sir,” Gil asserted. 

“ Now as to your going ashore,” the commander 
went on. “You must personate a young Cuban, and 
must have a reason for being there. You are to take a 
Cuban name, and have a plausible story ready for any 
one you talk with. You will dress like a Cuban, of 
course, and carry nothing along to betray you if you 
are suspected. You will not go ashore until to-morrow 
night, for you are not quite dark enough yet, and I 
want you to have another day in the sun. Yes,” he 
added, smiling, “ I know all about your sun-bath on 
deck. But I want you to choose your Cuban name 


i8o 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


and invent your story to-night, so that all day to-morrow 
you can think yourself that Cuban boy, and act his part 
naturally, and forget for the time that you know a word 
of English or that you ever were an American sailor. 
The success of your mission and your own safety both 
depend upon this. That is all for to-night ; and when 
I see you before your start, you will be a Cuban boy, 
with all your preparations made.” 

Gil saluted and retired, and had selected his new 
Cuban name before he was down the gangway. 


CHAPTER XIII. 


INSTRUCTIONS FROM COMMANDER McCALLA. 

N the day after the battle in Guantanamo bay 



there was a strong belief among the crew of the 
St. Louis that Engineer Standish, of the refrigerating 
plant, had lost his senses. And judging by his actions 
and his conversation, the belief certainly seemed to be 
well founded. 

When Gil appeared on deck in the early morning 
wearing only the swimming-tights that he had worn 
the afternoon before, and stood in the sun beside a 
pail of sea-water, with a steward to keep him con- 
stantly wet with a big sponge, the men laughed at 
him and made him the victim of as many pranks as 
the ship’s discipline allowed. 

“Shure, his granddad was a naygur,” said one of 
the Irish gunners. “The old man’s just died, an’ the 
bye’s got to prove he’s black blood in his veins, else 
he won’t get his share of the fortune. That’s why 
he’s burnin’ his skhin to a cinder in the soon.” 

But as the symptoms gradually grew worse, the 
joking ceased, and the men began to sympathize with 


82 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


him. It was a serious matter when the young engi- 
neer refused to speak a word of his own language, but 
chattered Spanish in answer to their questions. And 
it was still worse when he would not answer to his 
own name or title, but insisted that he was a Cuban, 
and that his name was Pedro. And he was con- 
stantly saying something, they could not quite make 
out what, about going to Porto Rico. 

“Pd rather see a lad shot,” said one of the men, 
“ than see him in such a state as that. He’s crazy as 
a march hare ; and it’s this Cuban sun has done it, if 
I’m any judge ; you want to keep out of the sun, 
fellows ; it’s a killer.” 

“I’m not so sure about the sun,” said another; “it 
hasn’t hurt me any. Maybe it was the excitement of 
the fight yesterday, and that dive he made under fire. 
He might have struck his head against something. 
Anyhow, he ought to be kept out of the sun, or he’ll 
kill himself.” 

Ben Hanway, Gil’s best friend on board, was the 
only one of the little circle who showed no concern. 
But so much talk about the crazy engineer made him 
curious to see what was going on, and he took the 
first opportunity to pay him a visit. 

“ Are you all right, my boy ” he asked in a low 
tone, sauntering carelessly up to where Gil was stand- 
ing. 

“ Straight as a string ! ” Gil answered in Spanish, 


INSTRUCTIONS FROM COMMANDER McCALLA. 1 83 

and in the same low tone. “But I don’t understand 
your language, senor. My name is Pedro Alvarez, 
and I’m in a heap of trouble.’’ 

“How so Han way asked. 

“Because I’ve got to get over to Porto Rico and 
I can’t find any ship going that way,” Gil explained. 
“You see my father, a Cuban like myself, was super- 
intendent of La Flora sugar plantation, near Cien- 
fuegos; and when the revolution broke out he became 
a captain in Garcia’s army, and we sent my mother 
over to her relations in Porto Rico, because she’d be 
safer there. She’s with them in Ponce, and we’ve 
had word that she is very sick. So as my father can’t 
leave his men he has sent me down to the coast to 
find some ship that will carry me over to her to take 
care of her. You don’t know of any ship going that 
way, do you, senor ? ” 

“ I think there may be an American fieet going 
that way before long,” Hanway laughed. “ But you’ll 
find the way, Pedro Alvarez, and I’m glad you’re all 
right.” 

Hanway was very useful that day in telling the 
crew that Standish was only obeying orders, however 
mysterious they might seem, for otherwise they would 
very likely have taken him forcibly out of the sun 
and confined him in his cabin. And he was a perfect 
treasure, as Gil declared in Spanish, when, the day 
ended, he willingly complied with Gil’s request to go 


184 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

with him to the latter’s room and help transform him 
into the newest Cuban revolutionist, Pedro Alvarez. 

What happened when they were alone together in 
the room, with the door locked, was sufficiently shown 
by Gil’s changed appearance an hour later. If we 
know Ben Hanway as well as we ought, we know 
without the telling that he was too honorable to ask a 
single question about Gil’s mission ; and we can judge 
what it meant when Gil handed him his little private 
log-book, with some papers held between the covers 
by a rubber band, and said : — 

“The address is in that; I know you won’t fail to 
write, old fellow, if I don’t come back.” 

What became of Gil Standish during that hour’s 
work with Hanway would be a deep mystery if we 
were not in the secret. At any rate, when Ben went 
out, he left the room door standing open, and a few 
minutes later one of the captain’s stewards stepped 
up to the open door, stuck in his head, opened his 
mouth to speak, but changed his mind, looked all 
about the room, and then fixed his eyes in astonish- 
ment upon a stranger who was coolly seated upon the 
sofa. 

The stranger was a Cuban boy apparently about 
sixteen or seventeen years old. On his head was an 
old straw hat made of woven strips of palm leaf, 
much the worse for wear, with the top of the crown 
torn partly loose, permitting several straggling locks 


INSTRUCTIONS FROM COMMANDER McCALLA. 1 85 

of hair to stick through. His pink-and-white checked 
cotton shirt, with collar attached, was unbuttoned more 
than half-way down and well rolled back, exposing a 
large expanse of dark chest. And his only other 
garment was a pair of what had once been white 
linen trousers, coarse and unbleached at the best, but 
now wrinkled and soiled with long and hard usage. 
These fitted pretty snugly to his body, and were rolled 
up to the knees, displaying a pair of muscular calves 
as dark as a mulatto’s and somewhat soiled besides, 
and feet that, destitute of either shoes or stockings, 
were as dark as bare Cuban feet usually are. His 
hands and face were even darker than the rest of the 
exposed skin, and his whole appearance indicated that 
he was a boy of the country, used to climbing the Cuban 
hills and braving the Cuban sun. A wrinkled old cloth 
coat, faded and torn, lay on the seat beside him. 

As the steward was about to withdraw, Gil saw that 
he must break his rule and use his own language for 
once. 

“ What do you want ? ” he asked in English. 

The steward’s eyes opened wider than ever. It was 
Engineer Standish’s room, and Engineer Standish’s 
voice ; but who was this Cuban boy ? 

“Captain Goodrich wishes to see Mr. Standish, sir,” 
he answered. 

“ Very well,” Gil said. “ I will report in Mr. Stan- 
dish’s place.” 


1 86 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

Such of the crew as he met on the way were duly 
surprised to see a strange Cuban boy on board; but 
Gil did not wait for questions or explanations. He 
had a very brief talk with the captain, who merely 
wished to see that he was properly disguised before 
sending him to the Marblehead ; and when the talk 
was ended he rang for one of his officers and gave 
the direction : — 

“Take this boy over to the Marblehead and deliver 
him to Commander McCalla.” 

Once more closeted with the commander of the 
Marbleheady Gil had to undergo a careful scrutiny. 
The commander raised his glasses and smiled as he 
saw the wonderful transformation. 

“ Have you anything on but just what I can see ? ” 
he asked, in Spanish. 

“ Nothing at all, sir,” Gil replied. 

“Take off that coat and hand it to me.” 

Gil did as he was told ; and as the commander 
opened it and looked at the place where the maker’s 
name is usually put, at the back of the collar, he said to 
himself, “Oh, no; you don’t catch me there.” It 
was an American coat, but the New York maker’s 
name had been carefully removed. 

“What have you in your pockets.?” the commander 
asked, returning the coat. 

“ Nothing but a handkerchief and a pocket knife, 
sir,” Gil replied. 


INSTRUCTIONS FROM COMMANDER McCALLA. 1 8 / 


“No marks on the handkerchief ? ” 

“ No, sir.’’ 

“And the knife.?’’ 

“ It is of German make, sir.’’ 

“Very well.’’ The commander seemed well pleased. 
“Apparently you know what you are about. You 
must remember that if you are suspected you are likely 
to be searched from head to foot, even the linings of 
your clothes. So you are to make no drawings, and 
put nothing on paper. What is your name .? ” 

“ Pedro Alvarez, sir,’’ Gil replied. 

“Pedro Alvarez,” the commander repeated, writing 
the name on his pad. “Then if we hear that Pedro 
Alvarez has been caught and shot, we will know who 
it is. And what are you doing in Cuba .? ” 

“ My mother is very sick in Ponce, Porto Rico,” Gil 
answered, “ and I have come down to the coast to find 
a ship to take me over to her.” He repeated his story 
at some length, and was told that it would answer 
admirably. 

“Now, Pedro Alvarez,” the commander went on, 
“listen to what I tell you. Here is a small but a 
very powerful revolver, of English make, with a dozen 
extra cartridges. This is a water-tight bag it is in, in 
case you have to do any swimming, and you can carry it 
in your coat pocket. And here is money, in Spanish gold 
and silver. But not too much, for much money would 
look suspicious. Are you good at remembering names .? ” 


88 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


‘‘I think so, sir,” Gil answered. 

“ You must remember this one,” the commander con- 
tinued, “ for it is all-important to you. F. W. Rams- 
den, British consul at Santiago. F. W. Ramsden.” 

“ F. W. Ramsden, British consul at Santiago,” Gil 
repeated. 

Say it over to yourself a thousand times, if neces- 
sary, for you must not forget it. Now do you know 
the old Spanish proverb that would be in English, 

‘ never sign a paper that you do not read, nor drink 
water that you do not examine ’ } ” 

“ Ah, si, senor ! ” Gil answered. “ ‘ Ni firmes carta 
que no leas, ni hebes agua que no veas.’ ” 

“ Right ! ” said the commander. “ Keep that in 
mind. Consul Ramsden is our friend and that prov- 
erb is our password with him. If you run out of 
money, or if you find yourself in the very last extremity 
from any cause, go or send to him. Mention no names ; 
when you repeat the proverb he will understand. 

“ Now you are to remain on the Marblehead till late 
this evening,” Commander McCalla continued. “After 
the moon sets I will send you down the coast in a steam 
launch. The launch will land you on the beach at or 
near Point de Berraco, about twenty-two miles east of 
here, and after that you will be left to your own re- 
sources. I shall not see you again, Standish,” he added, 
after giving more detailed instructions, holding out his 
hand, “but I shall not forget you. This is dangerous 


INSTRUCTIONS FROM COMMANDER McCALLA. I89 

work you are undertaking, but it is of the utmost im- 
portance to the country. Good by, my boy, and God 
bless you.” 

It was not only the danger or the importance of his 
mission, not only the commander’s warm handshake, 
that set Gil’s heart to thumping so hard as he returned 
to the deck. He tried to think only of his work, but he 
could not help remembering that he was to be landed at 
Point de Berraco ; and he knew that to reach Santiago 
from there he must go directly across the land that was 
once the Standish coffee plantation. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 

P OINT DE BERRACO makes but a small projec- 
tion on even the large maps of Cuba, but it offers 
a variety of landing-places to the voyager in a small 
boat, who may select smooth white beach, rocky head- 
land, or the dark mazes of a mangrove swamp. In the 
bright starlight that followed the setting of the moon, 
Gil got a moderately good idea of the coast, and after 
some deliberation determined to make his landing in 
the most difficult and uncomfortable of the available 
places, the mangrove swamp. The beach would have 
been far easier, but he wisely reasoned that on the 
beach he might possibly be seen, and to be seen land- 
ing from an American launch would put an end to all 
his plans ; whereas in the thick mangrove swamp he 
could lie concealed till it was safe to come out. 

He was not a passenger of distinction on board the 
launch. To the officer in charge, as well as to the crew, 
he was simply a Cuban boy who was to be set ashore ; 
but fortunately the officer had been directed to let his 
passenger choose his own landing-place, and Gil made 
him understand by signs that he desired to be set down 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


I9I 

in the mangroves. He spoke no word of English while 
on the launch, and no one suspected that he understood 
what was said ; so he had the pleasure of hearing what 
the men thought of him in his new character. 

“Wants to land in the mangroves, does he! ” one of 
the men said. “Well, that’s a good place for a dago. 
I wish him luck among the snakes and alligators.” 

“You wouldn’t catch him landing where anybody 
might see him,” another laughed. “They’re a cowardly 
set, these Cubans ; worse than the Spaniards. Just 
imagine this measly dago diving under fire for a cable, 
like that fellow from the St. Louis launch. They 
haven’t got the blood, that’s a fact.” 

“This fellow’s two-thirds negro,” another broke in, 
“and they say they all are.” 

It pleased Gil wonderfully to hear these comments, 
for they showed that his disguise was effective. But 
he had little time to think about them. The launch’s 
engine had been stopped when she reached shoal water, 
and she had been pushed along, slowly and silently, with 
poles. And at the proper moment her head was swung 
about and the stern was shoved in snug among the 
mangroves. Anxious to be rid of the boat as soon as 
possible, Gil instantly stepped out into water that barely 
reached his knees, and laid hold of a stout limb of the 
nearest tree. 

“ Gracios,” he said, in a low voice. “ Buena noches, 
senores.” (Thank you ; good night, gentlemen.) 


192 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Good night, youngster,” the officer replied, in the 
same low tone, “ and pleasant dreams to you.” And the 
boat shot away and Gil was left alone in the Cuban mud. 

As nearly as he could judge the time, — for he had of 
course no watch, — it was about four o’clock in the morn- 
ing. There were no signs yet of approaching daylight, 
but he knew that the sun would rise in the neighbor- 
hood of five, so that his imprisonment in the swamp 
would not probably last for more than an hour. And 
his situation was not as bad as it seemed, thanks to the 
attention he had given to his early instruction. Indeed, 
he knew so much about the mangrove and its habits 
that the darkness, the swamp, the weird shapes of the 
trunks and limbs, had no terrors for him. He was 
entirely familiar with its way of letting its curving 
branches dip into the water and embed themselves in 
the bottom to form new roots, which, growing like the 
parent stem, soon form a jungle that is next to 
impassable. 

And suppose he could not make his way through the 
swamp when daylight came.? Then it would be an 
easy matter to swim or wade around it to the firmer 
beach, for a mangrove swamp is rarely more than a 
fringe upon the shore. Snakes .? Who ever heard of 
dangerous snakes in salt water ? And alligators .? The 
water was not deep enough for them. Even a braver 
fellow than Gil, ignorant of these things, might have 
been alarmed at his situation ; but we are seldom afraid 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


193 


of the things we understand, and having a good knowl- 
edge of the situation, he felt quite at his ease, and in 
the dim light he felt among the branches for a con- 
venient seat, drew his feet out of the water, and made 
himself as comfortable as possible. 

“It’s a right lively little war — so far,” he said to 
himself; “and I can’t complain that I’m not getting 
my share. Five days out of New York this morning 
and twice under fire, one pretty sizable battle, and now 
one of the first Americans landed in Cuba. 

“ I’m glad the folks don’t know where I am at this 
minute,” he reflected, his thoughts wandering unbidden 
toward home. “ If mother and Rose could see me sit- 
ting in this tree, and could know that I am going right 
into the enemy’s camp, they’d worry. It was hard work 
not to write to them before starting, but I think it was 
best.” 

However, it is dangerous to begin translating a 
young sailor’s thoughts in such a situation, when he can 
think enough in an hour to fill a volume ; and it may 
be equally dangerous to tell the unvarnished truth, that 
when daylight came and the sun lifted his majestic head 
above the vapory horizon, Gil picked enough oysters 
from the trees to make him a substantial breakfast. If 
there had been chops or steaks or boiled eggs growing 
on the trees, he might have chosen another diet; but 
there was nothing but oysters, and he ate them and felt 
grateful. 


194 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Under the new light he slid down from his perch to 
examine the swamp, and his bare foot rubbed against 
something that scratched it. He stooped down to look, 
and saw that he had rubbed against a big cluster of 
oysters attached to an exposed root beneath the water. 
There were similar roots in every direction, and nearly 
every one of them had its cluster of oysters attached ; 
some clusters made up of only four or five small 
oysters, others large enough to fill a peck measure. 

“ How that would surprise any one who didn’t know 
about it,” he said to himself, as he stooped down again 
and tried to pry one of the clusters loose. “ I’ve often 
heard and read of oysters growing on trees, but I had 
forgotten all about them. And it’s plain enough when 
you see it instead of hearing about it. These oysters 
certainly are growing on trees, but the story-tellers 
forgot to say they grow on the parts of the trees that 
are under water.” 

One bunch of oysters loosened served for a hammer 
to pound off others, and in a few minutes he made a 
very satisfactory breakfast. The oysters were small, 
but sweet and juicy. And as he ate he looked about 
him, and soon concluded that although the swamp was 
narrow, the growth of mangrove trees was so dense 
that the easiest way out would be by wading around it 
to the beach. 

The sun was less than half an hour high when Pedro 
Alvarez, as Gil now not only called himself but tried 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


195 


even to think himself, stepped out of the warm and 
shallow water upon the white beach of Cuba, where he 
was as much alone as if he had been the last inhabitant 
of the world. 

The mangrove swamp was on his right, and back 
of it a rocky and inaccessible cliff. On his left, broad 
white beach as far as he could see, dotted here and 
there with broken rocks, and back of the beach a high 
and in some places a steep hill, ragged, rocky, partly 
overgrown with coarse grass and vines, looking much 
like the hills of his own Catskill region but for the 
bunches of cactus, green but forbidding, that stood 
here and there like sentinels. His eye commanded 
every part of the coast but the dark recesses of the 
mangrove swamp ; and it was clear that his landing 
had been made unnoticed. 

Now that he was safely on shore, with nothing to 
connect him with the American fleet, he had no fur- 
ther desire for concealment; on the contrary, he was 
anxious to meet some one, of any age, sex, or color, to 
give him information. 

It will hardly do,” he realized as he began to climb 
the hill, “to pretend that I am looking for a ship on 
this desolate part of the coast. I think Pedro has been 
to Caimanera for that purpose, and failing there, is 
making his way to Santiago.” 

It was hard climbing on the hill, though in the part 
that he selected it was not very steep. He made a 


196 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

comparison of it in his mind with Little Roundtop, 
near Cairo, which he had often climbed, and concluded 
that the summit was about four hundred feet above the 
sea-level. As he went higher and higher, his view of 
the sea grew larger ; but what interested him more was 
the sight of a mountain range further inland, and 
apparently not many miles away. 

From his experience among the Catskills he knew at 
once that the elevation he was climbing must be one of 
the foothills of the greater mountains beyond ; and that 
the land must rise in hill after hill till the hills become 
spurs of the real mountain. 

“ The laws of nature are as binding in Cuba as else- 
where,” he said to himself. “ Between two hills there 
must be a valley ; through that valley the people travel, 
so there must be a road. It is that road that I want to 
find, to lead me along toward Santiago.” 

When he reached the summit he found that this idea 
was correct in general, though so many other hills rose 
on all sides that there were too many valleys to choose 
among. As far as he could see, the country was en- 
tirely deserted ; not a human being nor a human habi- 
tation nor the least sign of cultivation. The only thing 
to remind him that he was in the tropics, aside from 
the heat of the sun and the occasional cactus, was a 
beautiful grove of palm trees on the slope of a distant 
hill. 

Following the downward slope of the landward side 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


197 


of the hill, he came at length to a road; a typical 
Cuban road, worse than anything he had ever seen in 
the most neglected parts of the Catskills. For a 
Cuban road is merely a wagon track across the coun- 
try, untended, unfenced, and sometimes impassable. 
Where the soil was rocky, this looked almost like the 
bed of a dried-up mountain stream ; and where it was 
clay, the heavy wheels had cut into it for generations, 
and tropical winds had blown away the dust, till it 
was sometimes three or four feet lower than the sur- 
face. 

At all events, it was a road, and he followed it to the 
westward for more than a mile; and presently as it 
curved around another hill, disclosing a new valley, he 
saw in the distance a house. 

It was his first sight of the ordinary Cuban country 
house; and he stopped a moment to look at its odd 
shape. It was built of rough stones, with a roof of 
thatch, and composed evidently of two rooms, a single 
story high. But the rooms were separated by a space 
of fifteen or twenty feet, and the roof covered both the 
rooms and the space, forming a sort of covered piazza 
between — ‘‘a piazza with a room at each end,” as he 
described it to himself. He was soon to become famil- 
iar with these open houses, but the first one was a 
novelty, and its surroundings, too, surprised him. In a 
country where he believed every dwelling to be em- 
bowered in dense tropical shrubbery, this one stood 


198 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


exposed to every burning ray of the sun, without a tree 
or bush to relieve the glare. 

The lonely house seemed to be deserted, but he 
would not pass it without inquiry. Going up to the 
open piazza, he found it floored, instead of with boards, 
with a rough cement of lime and pounded shells ; and 
this same flooring extended into the rooms, of which 
both doors stood open. 

There were no sashes to the small windows, only 
wooden shutters, and as these were all closed, the 
rooms were dark. So when he knocked at one of the 
doors, he could only get a dim idea, in the gloom, that 
the room was bare and deserted. 

But he was rewarded by hearing an answer to his 
summons. 

“ What do you want he understood a distant voice 
to ask; a feeble cracked voice that he thought must 
belong to an infirm old woman ; and it came evidently 
from the opposite room. 

He stepped across to the other door, and looked in, 
and could barely distinguish, at first, the outlines of the 
bent form of an old woman. She was seated, as far as 
he could make out, upon some low, rough object, such 
as a log or a large stone. 

“ Buena diaz, senora,” he said, taking off his tat- 
tered hat, meaning “ good day, madam ” ; but it goes 
without saying that this, like all his subsequent 
conversations with natives, was carried on in the 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


99 


Spanish language, which is here necessarily translated 
into English. 

“ Who are you .? ” the old woman asked, rising slowly 
and painfully from her seat, and stepping cautiously 
toward him. 

“ A stranger on this road, senora,” he answered, 
“inquiring my way to Santiago.” 

“ Then God keep you, stranger,” she said, “ for Cuba 
is full of plague and famine and worse enemies.” (She 
used the native name for the city. Santiago de Cuba 
is frequently called Cuba by the inhabitants.) “ Let 
me look at you.” 

As she stepped totteringly up to him, Gil saw by her 
wrinkled, half-closed eyes and her cautious movements 
that she was almost blind ; and she proceeded to “ see ” 
him, after the manner of blind persons, by passing her 
shrivelled fingers lightly over his face and arms. 

While he stood undergoing this process his eyes 
became better accustomed to the gloom, and he was 
startled to see that the room had another occupant. 
Close by the stone upon which the woman had been 
sitting was a disordered heap of dried grass, leaves, 
twigs, and boughs, and upon this rude couch a man lay 
stretched at full length. A man clad in soiled linen 
clothes, barefoot, with a broad blood-stained bandage 
around his head, and the deathly pallor in his face that 
comes only to the darkest skins. Like the woman, he 
was a mere skeleton, his ashy skin drawn tight over the 


200 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


bones of his face. With closed eyes and perfectly rigid 
body, Gil could not determine whether it was a corpse 
or a dying man. He saw, however, that the room was 
bare save for the stone seat and the couch of leaves. 

“Ah, it’s a young lad,” the old woman said, as she 
finished her examination, “ and he must be a friend. An 
enemy would find little here to deprive us of, stranger, 
but our poor lives, and those are going fast enough.” 

As she spoke she groped her way out to the veranda, 
and across it to the front, where it was eight or ten 
inches higher than the ground, and there seated her- 
self, inviting Gil to be seated also. 

“ This is the hospitality that is left to us, stranger,” 
she said bitterly; and in the full light Gil saw evi- 
dences of refinement in her wrinkled face; and he 
was satisfied that, notwithstanding her decrepitude, 
she was not beyond sixty years old. Her infirmities 
came more from sorrow and suffering than from age. 

“ I did not look for even that, senora,” he replied. 
“ My only wish is to ask whether this road leads to 
Santiago.” 

“ Where have you come from, lad ? ” the old woman 
suddenly asked, turning toward him. 

“ From Caimanera, senora,” Gil answered, very 
truthfully ; but as a scout in an enemy’s country he 
need not add that he had been there in a hostile ship, 
shelling the forts and cutting the cables. 

“ And your name ? ” she asked. 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


201 


“ Pedro Alvarez,” he answered. 

“Oh, aye! ” she exclaimed; “it is a good name. I 
have had many friends of that name in better times.” 
And she began to tell of her friends in Santiago, and 
in Cienfuegos, and in Santa Clara, and might have 
gone on interminably if Gil had not skilfully changed 
the subject, and brought the conversation back to his 
own affairs. 

He reasoned that this old woman was sure to see 
others, if only passing strangers like himself, and that 
in so desolate a country the presence of a stranger 
was sure to attract attention. It was better, he 
thought, if he was to be talked about at all, to be 
spoken of as Pedro Alvarez, the young Cuban who 
was trying to get to Porto Rico. And to this end 
he related to the old lady the story of his sick mother, 
and his anxiety to reach Ponce. 

While he was talking, the woman drew from her 
pocket a large pouch, from which she took both to- 
bacco and cigarette papers, and deftly rolled a cigar- 
ette with what seemed to be a single motion of her thumb 
and fingers. This she offered to Gil, but as he dis- 
liked tobacco in any form, and thought cigarettes the 
worst of all, he declined it with a smile, and she im- 
mediately put the end of it between her own shrivelled 
lips, and called : — 

“ Ramon I Ramon I Come here, lad, and bring 
me a light ! ” 


202 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Gil was startled at this, for he had seen no other 
person about the place but the wounded man. Could 
it be that she was calling that dead or dying man to 
get her a light ? 

His curiosity was soon satisfied, however, for in an- 
swer to the summons there came out of the inhabited 
room the emaciated remains of what had once been 
a boy. It was the most remarkable figure that Gil 
had ever seen. A boy of about fifteen he thought it 
must have been before it became an animated skel- 
eton. It, or he, wore a single garment, and that a 
frayed coffee sack ripped open at one end, with a 
hole cut in the other end for his head to go through, 
and a smaller hole on each side for his arms. And such 
arms ! Like his legs, they were to be compared with 
nothing but pieces of hoe-handle covered with dark skin. 
It seemed as if they must break when he moved them. 
His glossy, thick, straight black hair was the only 
attractive thing about him. His eyes, unnaturally 
bright, were sunken deep in his head. His cheeks 
were hollow, and his mouth, as in most cases of ema- 
ciation, was, or appeared to be, so large that it seemed 
to stretch from ear to ear. And his wasted limbs 
made his hands and feet look large enough for a 
giant. 

This skeleton with tawny skin stretched tightly over 
the bones was Ramon, who must have been concealed 
somewhere in the room. He crossed the veranda and 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


203 


went into the yard and knelt before a rude fireplace 
made of three stones, where a fire was smouldering, 
which he blew til^ he had a live coal, and carried it to 
the old lady in his hand by the simple expedient of 
first filling his hand with ashes. The old lady lighted 
her cigarette from it, and continued to smoke as long 
as the conversation lasted, lighting each fresh cigarette 
from the last. 

“ I think the Standish plantation is somewhere in 
this neighborhood, is it not ? ” Gil asked, when he had 
finished his story. “ I once had a friend who lived 
there, and I should like to make inquiries about him.” 

“ Ah, you will find no friends ! ” the old woman ex- 
claimed, almost viciously. “ We are past having friends 
in this poor island. All friends are scattered or dead, 
families are destroyed, fields trodden down, homes 
broken up, sons murdered, mothers starved. We are 
a ruined people. I hear the good Aniericans are com- 
ing to help us, but they are too late. Look in that 
room, and tell me what can help us. 

“ Going on two years,” she went on, “ we have lived 
in this dreadful place, Ramon and I, just as you see us 
now. And on what ? On cassava that this poor lad 
plants and gathers with his own hands. That is our 
daily fare, and we are thankful for it, though it barely 
keeps us alive. 

“ But you asked about the Standish place,” she broke 
off. “ I knew it well. La Sierra we called it years 


204 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


ago, before the Americans bought it. Ah, it was a 
bonny place, but the fields have been in ruins this 
many a day. You will pass it on your way to Santiago. 
Not by this road; this is the road to Aguadores, and 
you must leave it when you come to the track that you 
will see a little further on. That track, in a mile’s 
walk, will bring you to the Santiago road. Then in 
about eight miles more you will reach the Standish 
place. Ramon shall go and show you where to turn 
off.” 

You must take courage,” Gil said, as he rose to go. 
“The Americans are here. Two days ago they de- 
stroyed the forts of Caimanera. Their ships are off 
this coast. We shall soon have help.” 

“ Help ! ” the old woman repeated, “ what help is 
there against death ? When you come back this way, 
/le will be there,” and she nodded her head toward the 
room and pointed to the ground ; “ there, where his 
father and two brothers already are. They have mur- 
dered them all.” 

“ He is your son ? ” Gil asked. 

“ My son,” the old woman replied ; “ the last.” 

“And Ramon.?” 

“//ij'i- son. May God be good to him and spare him, 
for he will soon be alone.” 

This painful scene made a great impression upon 
Gil. He had read of the sufferings of the Cubans, but 
this was the first that he had actually seen of it. The 


GIL LANDS IN CUBA. 


205 


‘‘ horrors of war ” have a new meaning when they are 
brought home to us. 

Ramon told him a great deal more on the way to the 
turning-place. They had never been wealthy, but had 
lived in great comfort on their own little plantation. 
The Spaniards had pillaged and burnt the house, the 
Cubans had trampled and destroyed the fields. Now 
they had scarcely more than our first parents in the 
garden of Eden. The old pan in which they cooked 
the cassava was their sole possession. 

It was more than Gil could stand. Suppose his 
mother and Rose were reduced to such a living death. 
With moisture in his eyes he hurriedly tried to think 
what he could do for this starving boy. Everything 
was left behind, and he had nothing to give but money. 

“ Are you able to walk to Caimanera ? ” he asked, 
when they were about to part. 

“ Oh, yes, sefior,” Ramon replied ; but what use } ” 

“ Take this,” Gil told him, pressing one of his largest 
gold pieces into the boy’s wasted hand ; “ go to Cai- 
manera and get food, and bring a doctor to see your 
father.” 

Ramon’s talon-like fingers clutched the coin as if he 
feared that it might fly away. It was like a starved 
beast pouncing suddenly upon food. Then his sunken 
eyes turned sadly toward Gil’s face. 

‘‘God bless you forever,” he said, making the sign 
of the cross upon his forehead. “ But there is no food 


206 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


in Caimanera, senor, and the doctors are all in the 
army.” 

Gil patted the starving boy upon the head, and with- 
out another word began his walk across to the Santiago 
road. 

“ It was not my money,” he said to himself, “ but I 
will have them take it out of my pay. And I shall 
have no more worry about travelling under false pre- 
tences. I did not like telling this story about the sick 
mother in Ponce and pretending to be a Cuban, though 
I am doing it under orders, and such things are done 
in all armies when nations are at war. But who could 
look at that awful sight and not say that we are fight- 
ing in a noble cause ? ” 


CHAPTER XV. 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 

HEN the young scout reached the Santiago road, 



V V he found more evidences of former occupation. 
There were patches of land that had once been culti- 
vated, and occasionally there was a small house; but 
these dwellings, apparently deserted, all stood far back 
from the road, some of them even on distant hillsides ; 
and as he was sure of his way now he passed them by 
without stopping. 

As the morning advanced, the heat grew more in- 
tense. When he turned into the Santiago road, it was, 
as nearly as he could reckon, a little after eight o’clock ; 
and it was a wonderfully bright clear morning, that 
Saturday, the seventh of May. The road bore more 
signs of use than the by-way he had first been in ; but 
not the usual marks of a country road, and when he 
examined it he found that there were no tracks made 
by wagon wheels, except the old tracks that had been 
washed by many rains ; all the marks were footprints 
of men who wore shoes, and of horses. And he con- 
cluded from this that a large body of Spanish troops, 


208 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


both horse and foot, had recently been taken over the 
road for the relief of Caimanera. The footprints all 
pointed in that direction, and they were so fresh he 
thought they must have been made within twelve 
hours. 

Gil’s plan was to reach the Standish place before 
eleven o’clock and rest there for an hour or two, eat- 
ing his dinner there if he could find anything. He 
remembered that Commander McCalla had stated the 
distance of Point de Berraco from Santiago to be 
twenty-two miles. He had already come about two 
miles, so after walking eight miles to the Standish 

place he should still have twelve miles to go to reach 

♦ 

Santiago, and that he thought he could readily do be- 
fore dark. To reach Santiago, or at least the high 
hills to the eastward of it which overlooked the city 
and harbor and harbor entrance, he believed to be his 
first duty. Even the pleasure of looking at the plan- 
tation he was so much interested in, must not inter- 
fere with that. He had many things to do, but the 
most important of all .was watching for the possible 
coming of Cervera’s fleet. 

With his coat over his arm he trudged along the 
lonely and dusty road. Walking in Cuba in May was 
like walking on the hottest August days at home, and 
as he sweltered and perspired he consoled himself 
with the thought that every minute was adding to his 
rich Cuban color. 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 


209 


There are no milestones on the Cuban roads, and he 
had no means of estimating the distance he travelled 
except by his rate of speed and the height of the sun. 
He tried to keep up a speed of four miles an hour, 
which is good fast walking, and he had gone, as he 
thought, about six miles, when a turn in the road around 
the base of a hill suddenly revealed several things of 
interest to him. 

The prospect that opened out before him was much 
larger than any he had yet seen on the island. A great 
valley stretched out to the westward as far as he could 
see, ending at length in what he felt sure must be the 
hills on whose farther slope the city of Santiago stands. 
Smaller hills dotted the valley here and there, but none 
so situated as to obstruct the view. There were many 
more houses and fields in the valley than he had seen 
before, and several small villages. 

But what immediately attracted his attention was a 
hill on the left, a long distance ahead of him, crowned 
by a large building that had once been colored a deli- 
cate pink, but that now was streaked and discolored 
with the dark signs of age and neglect. It was a very 
large building, two stories in height, except at one 
corner, where a large square tower rose to three stories, 
castellated at the top ; and he might easily have mis- 
taken it for a fort if that very building had not been 
described to him so often that he was familiar with 
every outline. Not only had it been described to him, 


210 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


but he had seen photographs of it, and his uncle had 
often made diagrams showing the arrangement of the 
rooms. The end farthest from the tower seemed, as 
he saw it figured boldly against the clear blue sky, 
to have fallen or been battered into ruins ; but notwith- 
standing that change he knew instantly that he was 
looking for the first time at the plantation house of the 
Standish coffee estate. 

Clearly he was mistaken, then, in his estimate of the 
distance he had come. The large house seemed near 
by, but when he looked at the long series of minor hills 
and valleys that he must traverse to reach it, he knew 
that it could not be less than three or four miles away. 
But he had not much time to think of this, for the 
sound of childish voices close beside him told him 
that he must be near some inhabited dwelling. 

On his left, less than a hundred yards away, was a 
fine cluster of palm trees, and in their shade stood a 
house much like the one inhabited by the old lady and 
the wounded man in its general shape, but larger, hav- 
ing two rooms on each side of the open veranda, and a 
small building in the rear, evidently a kitchen. The 
yard, which was surrounded by a low stone wall, was 
in strong contrast with the barren space in front of the 
other house. A smooth walk led down to the road, 
and on both sides of it were long beds of flowers. And 
scattered here and there were luxuriant clusters of 
graceful bamboos rising higher than the roof, of ole- 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 


21 I 


anders in bloom, of guavas, some orange trees white 
with their fragrant blossoms, and many strange plants 
that he did not know even by name. 

It was more like his ideas of a tropical home than 
anything he had yet seen ; and its beauty was enhanced 
in his eyes by two young children who were romping 
and shouting in the front yard. One was a little girl 
of perhaps eleven or twelve years, and the other a boy 
of about eight who, though scantily clad, as Cuban 
children always are, looked neat and clean in their white 
garments that were evidently fresh from the laundry. 
. And better yet, they were so plump and hearty looking 
as to lead Gil to conclude on the instant that there was 
no lack of provisions in that house. 

“ Poor Ramon ! ” he said to himself. “ While you 
are starving on your cassava, there is evidently plenty 
to eat not far from you.” 

Upon seeing the stranger approaching, the children 
stopped their play and seemed alarmed. After one 
good look at him they turned about and ran away, and 
he saw them a moment later peeking out from behind 
one of the clusters of bamboo. 

He had had no intention of stopping till he reached 
the big plantation house ; but it was a temptation to 
speak to the merry children and perhaps learn some- 
thing about their source of supplies in such a devas- 
tated country; and when he was in front of the low 
wall he stepped up to it and called out to the girl : — 


212 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Can you tell me how far it is to Santiago, senorita ? ” 

On hearing his friendly voice and seeing that he was 
not a dangerous ogre come to eat them, the children 
came out from behind the bamboo, and timidly ad- 
vanced a step or two. 

“Nearly sixteen miles, senor,” the girl answered. 

“And do you and your little brother live in this 
pretty place he asked. 

“ Oh, this is not a pretty place ! ” the girl said, looking 
about contemptuously, and coming a few steps nearer 
the wall. “This is a mean little place. I hate it. 
But we live in a pretty place when we are not at war.” 

“Oh, you are at war, are you ” Gil laughed, at 
which both- the children laughed too and took courage 
to step down to the wall and lean against it. “ And are 
your papa and mamma staying here ? ” 

“ Mamma’s here ! ” the boy replied, finding his tongue 
for the first time. 

“ And papa ? ” Gil asked. 

The boy was about to answer again, when his sister 
pulled his sleeve to warn him to be silent. 

“We are not to speak about our affairs to stran- 
gers, senor ! ” she said, drawing herself up with great 
dignity and speaking in the tone of a child who has 
been allowed to have her own way among a great 
many servants. 

“Oh, excuse me!” Gil laughed again. “I did not 
know I was speaking to a princess of Spain. But per- 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 


213 


haps your royal highness will condescend to let an 
humble traveller have a glass of water from the palace 
well, the day being hot and the road dusty.” 

“ We don’t drink the water from this old well,” the 
little boy exclaimed ; “ but if you come in, my mamma 
will give you a glass of wine.” 

The girl gave her brother another shake, and a look 
that Gil interpreted to mean, “You’re always putting 
your foot in it, young chatterbox! ” and said : — 

“ The water is very good, I believe, and I’m sure you 
are welcome to as much as you want of it. I don’t see 
any one around to bring it, so you will have to step 
in and help yourself. We will show you the well.” 

It was a novelty to Gil to see a spoiled, haughty 
little girl like this. There are, fortunately, not a large 
number of them in our own country; but in Cuba, 
where every large planter is a little prince in his own 
dominions, and where there are necessarily large num- 
bers of employees and servants, they are not at all 
uncommon. And he enjoyed talking, upon almost any 
terms, with the two children. It was so different from 
the scenes of war and destitution with which he was 
becoming familiar. 

As he followed them up the path toward the house, 
he could not help noticing that nature had given even 
more than the dark hue of children of the tropics to 
the girl, and had made the boy as fair as a child of 
the mountain regions of upper New York. She would 


214 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


have passed in America for a mulatto girl, with not 
only the dark skin but the rich brown eyes and wavy 
black hair of a mulatto, and he was as fair and white as 
a boy could be, with bluish-gray eyes and fair Saxon 
ringlets. Perhaps it was more on his own account that 
Gil noticed these things. They showed him that if he 
had not yet been sunburned enough, he might with 
almost any complexion pass for a native Cuban. 

“Mamma, here is a — a person who is passing who 
wants a drink of water.” 

The girl’s voice, as they neared the house, told him 
that he was to meet some of the adult occupants of the 
place. He saw no one, but the open veranda in the 
centre was so screened with vines that any number 
of persons might have sat upon it without his seeing 
them. It was the famous bougainvilliers vine that 
made the shelter; and though he had never seen one 
before, he knew it at once from his uncle’s descriptions 
— a great growth of dark green foliage, forming a half- 
hidden background for the mass of bright crimson flowers. 

“A stranger!” a voice from the veranda said. 
“ We have not so many visitors that we can let one 
pass without showing him some hospitality. Good 
morning, senor.” 

A lady of less than middle age stepped up to the 
opening at the centre of the veranda, where the steps 
were. A lady in a costume of white, that made all 
the more conspicuous her jet-black hair. Gil rightly 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 


215 


judged that she was the mother of the children, and 
noticed on the instant that her complexion was about 
midway between the two. Oddly enough, too, for a 
boy, he noticed that her dress was severely plain, and 
that she wore no jewelry. 

“ Good morning, senora,” he said, taking off his hat. 
‘‘Thank you very much for your offer of hospitality. 
But there is nothing I should appreciate so much as a 
glass of water.” 

“ There is plenty of water,” the lady laughed, 
evidently pleased with Gil’s politeness. “ Plenty of 
water, such as it is. We are a little afraid of the 
strange water ourselves, but I suppose it is really pure 
enough, as there is nothing to contaminate it. But you 
need not drink it landing ; let me at least offer you a 
chair.” 

From the steps Gil saw that there were several chairs 
upon the veranda, and very comfortable and inviting 
they looked, — chairs that were quite out of keeping 
with the character of the house, expensive chairs made 
of rattan in fancy and inviting shapes, one with rockers 
that the lady had just vacated. And there was a large 
rug upon the floor, the veranda being floored with 
broad boards instead of the composition flooring of the 
other house. It was as fine a rug as he had ever seen ; 
and all the surroundings gave him the idea that these 
people could be staying only temporarily in so small 
and isolated a place. 


2I6 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


He had had no intention of stopping longer than to 
take a drink of water, for the place that he was more 
interested in than any other on the island was within 
sight, and he was anxious to reach it. But he was 
warm, and the shady veranda looked cool and refresh- 
ing. He was tired, and the broad chairs were very 
inviting. It could do no harm for him to stop a 
moment and rest himself ; and he took off his hat and 
ascended the steps. 

“ Call Auguey,” the lady said to the little girl, “ and 
tell him to bring this young gentleman a jug of water. 
And be seated, senor,” she added to Gil, drawing one 
of the armchairs forward for him. 

The young scout from the St. Louis was walking 
into trouble, though he had no suspicion of it. He was 
letting himself fall into the hands of a woman of great 
experience with humankind, to whom it was only amuse- 
ment to win the confidence of a young country boy by 
refusing to see his bare feet and his coarse clothes ; 
a woman who spent her winters usually in Paris, her 
summers in Saratoga or New York, who spoke English 
and French as fluently as her native Spanish, and who 
in ordinary times when she drove out in her volante 
was attended by a retinue of armed servants ; the mis- 
tress, in short, of one of the greatest sugar estates of 
Cuba, an estate that in a good season sends fifteen 
thousand tons of sugar to market, and that gives profit- 
able employment to an army of employees. There was 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 


217 


no reason, apparently, for her troubling herself with 
this barefoot boy walking past and asking for a glass of 
water, unless indeed because it was her whim, and 
because such Cuban ladies of fortune indulge their 
harmless whims without hesitation. Under the cir- 
cumstances Gil could not have found a more dangerous 
person in the whole island of Cuba to hold any conver- 
sation with. But she was so hospitable and kind ; so 
anxious to make him comfortable, and give him the rest 
he needed ; so careful to put him at his ease and make 
him feel that she was talking to an equal rather than to 
some obscure boy from a neighboring plantation. How 
was the Catskill mountain boy to escape when she chose 
to draw him out ? 

Auguey brought the water, and he proved to be a 
light-colored young negro boy in very correct waiter’s 
costume. And in five minutes Gil was ready to go ; 
but by that time the lady had told him that she was the 
Senora Avila ; that she and her family had taken refuge 
in that small place to escape the horrors of the war; 
and had encouraged him to tell as much of his own 
story as he thought proper. 

And then he was sure that he must go, but she was 
so pressing in her invitation that he put it off a moment 
longer. She told him something of the history of the 
Standish place, finding that he was interested in it, and 
about the forts and garrisons in the neighborhood. 
There was so much information in what she said that 


2i8 • 


CADET STAKDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


he felt that really he ought to stay and listen as a 
matter of duty. 

The forts at El Caney she described, and the works 
on San Juan hill, and many other little strongholds 
about Santiago ; and Gil very reasonably asked ques- 
tions about them. How many troops were there at 
El Caney } how many at San J uan ? at Santiago itself ? 
And were the troops at Santiago mostly regulars or vol- 
unteers, and what artillery had they ? and what were 
the coast defences besides the Morro Castle ? 

“ It is impossible for you to think of going yet,” she 
said, when at the end of half an hour he made one 
more move to start. “ We are within a few minutes of 
our breakfast hour, and in this section there is nothing 
to be bought. We breakfast here upon the veranda, 
and you must not think of leaving us until you have 
eaten. But you shall not be kept waiting,” she added. 
“ Excuse me for a minute, and I will have something 
brought at once.” 

It would interfere a little with his plans, but could he 
not change them without slighting his real work ? It 
might, after all, be the safest thing he could do, to eat 
something when it offered, in a country where provi- 
sions were so scarce. The raw oysters he had already 
eaten seemed to be just the right thing at the time, but 
they were a light foundation for a long walk over the 
Cuban roads ; and at any rate, he could shorten his visit 
to the Standish place by just as much time as he spent 
over breakfast. 


BETRAYED BY THE SENORA. 2 IQ 

While he deliberated with himself, Auguey arrived 
with a small table, just big enough for four, and spread 
it with such a tempting array of food as no hungry 
young sailor could have resisted. A silver pot of 
steaming coffee, and hot rolls, fresh fish, chops, eggs, 
and a Cuban dish that he had heard of before, called 
bacalao, made of salted codfish, fresh tomatoes, and a 
liberal sprinkling of garlic. 

Such a meal, in such a shady spot, in such good com- 
pany, was enough to brighten the heart and loosen the 
tongue of any young man. The children were talka- 
tive, and their mother seemed to encourage them to 
prattle. The conversation was all about Cuba and 
military affairs, and the hostess poured out a perfect 
stream of information, or what passed for information, 
about troops and batteries and mined harbors. And 
Gil asked as many questions about such matters as the 
most talkative hostess could desire, without stopping to 
consider that perhaps he was asking too many for his 
own safety. The more he asked, the more engaging 
his hostess became ; and nothing was further from his 
thoughts than that so charming a woman could be de- 
liberately leading him on to his own ruin. 

“Ah,” she said, when the meal was finished and Gil 
showed signs again of departing, “not immediately 
after eating. Being a Cuban yourself, you know that 
in this country we take our siesta after a meal. It is 
not well to go out into the hot sun too soon.” 


220 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Just a suspicion flashed across his mind that for some 
reason she was trying to detain him. But he dismissed 
it instantly as absurd. 

Gil was always very careful about the little pro- 
prieties of life, and his good sense told him that even 
under such circumstances it was hardly polite for him 
to take his departure the minute he had finished eating. 
He would sit and talk for a few minutes. 

He heard a back gate open and close, and knew that 
some one was approaching the house from that direc- 
tion. But there were servants about the place, who 
must frequently be going in and out, and he thought 
nothing of it till a change in the sound brought him to 
attention instantly. There were footsteps of more 
persons than one on the rear of the veranda ; and 
they were not the steps of servants, for they were too 
heavy, and they kept time with military precision. 

His back was turned in that direction, and as he 
instinctively looked around he quickly sprang to his 
feet; for there were two armed men on the veranda, 
both in the Spanish uniform. 

Each carried a long rifle, with bayonet affixed; and 
as they were advancing rapidly, one of them stepped 
up to Gil, who was hampered by the chair and table, 
and laid his hand upon his shoulder. 

“ You are my prisoner,” he said. 

It is surprising how many things a man can think of 
in such a moment. Both the men were smaller and 




WITH A POWERFUL BLOW HE SENT THE SPANIARD REELING 



BETRAYED BY THE SEN ORA. 


221 


lighter than Gil ; he saw that in a flash. And their 
long rifles were the clumsiest of weapons at such close 
quarters. And there was a smile upon the face of his 
hostess that told him a great deal ; and he had no time 
to get out his revolver. 

“ Oh, I think not,” he retorted. 

As he spoke he threw off the Spaniard’s hand, and 
clutched him by the throat. The scuffle that followed 
took them half-way across the veranda, but it could 
have only one ending. Gil was a young lion aroused, 
and the soldier was a mere child in his hands. 

With a powerful blow he sent the Spaniard reeling 
up against the wall of the house. Then turned quickly, 
for the other man was coming around the table to 
attack him in the rear. 

Gil made a desperate rush for this second man, but 
to reach him he had to pass his hostess, who still 
sat smiling and unconcerned. And as he shot past 
her with all the momentum he could give himself, 
she deliberately thrust out her foot and tripped 
him. 

There was no time to think of the awful breach 
of hospitality, for his head struck a corner of the 
table, and he remembered nothing beyond seeing a 
great collection of stars falling through the veranda 
roof. 

When he came to his senses, his hostess and the 
children had disappeared, and he was seated in the 


222 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


rocking-chair with both the Spanish soldiers standing 
over him, and a pair of glittering steel handcuffs on 
his wrists. 

“ You are quite a fighter, senor,” the leader of the 
two said, when Gil looked up; “but you must come 
with us.” 


CHAPTER XVI. 


GIL ESCAPES FROM HIS CAPTORS. 

ITH manacles on his wrists and two armed sol- 



V V diers taking him in charge, there was little that 
Gil could do but obey when they ordered him to get 
up and march. 

“ What have you taken me prisoner for ? ” he asked, 
as they walked rapidly across a vast abandoned field 
toward one of the interior hills. 

“ On suspicion, senor,” the man who was evidently 
the leader answered. Gil was satisfied from their uni- 
forms that neither was a commissioned officer. The 
spokesman, he thought, might be a corporal or ser- 
geant. And this point made an impression upon him, 
for he was still thinking very hard. 

“ Suspicion of what ? ” 

“ Ah,” the man replied, shrugging his shoulders, 
“that is not for me to say. There is much suspicion 
in this unsettled country.” 

“Then the lady I ate breakfast with has made a 
false charge against me,” Gil continued. “ She sent 
for you to come and arrest me .? ” 


224 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“ She is a very powerful lady, senor,” the man 
answered evasively. “ She is the colonel’s wife.” 

Gil was afraid of betraying himself by asking too 
much ; but this could only mean, he was sure, that 
the lady was a Spaniard, or in sympathy with the 
Spaniards, and her husband in the royal army. 

“ And where are you taking me ? ” he asked. 

“To the outpost on Carillo hill first, where we are 
on duty,” the man replied ; “ and from there, who 
knows ? wherever you are sent.” And he shrugged his 
shoulders expressively. 

Gil certainly had every reason in the world for do- 
ing his very best thinking now. He could not make 
up his mind that he had been exactly remiss in his 
duty. To stop and eat breakfast with a family who 
treated him kindly was no fault, and he knew that 
he had not been unguarded in his conversation. It 
was not what he had said, but the many questions 
he had asked, that aroused suspicion. 

“ And after all my careful preparations ! ” he said 
to himself ; “ the tanning in the sun, and these old 
clothes, to be suspected on my very first day ashore ! 
A fellow would never have thought that any person, 
specially a woman, could have made such a vile use 
of pretended hospitality. She must have sent for the 
soldiers, of course, when she pretended to go out to 
order breakfast. 


“But Captain Goodrich and Commander McCalla,” 


t' 


% 


GIL ESCAPES FROM HIS CAPTORS. 225 

he continued, “ will not stop long to inquire how I 
got into the scrape. It’s enough that I am in it, and 
not able to get them the information they want. I 
must find a way out of it, or they will never trust 
me on any important work again — even,” he added, 
with a poor imitation of a silent laugh, “if the Span- 
iards don’t take a notion to put some bullets into me.” 

They were walking along in single file, the spokes- 
man in the lead, Gil in the middle, and the other soldier 
bringing up the rear. And it is not probable that either 
of the Spaniards had the faintest suspicion that their 
young prisoner, apparently so helpless and crestfallen, 
was then revolving in his mind the important question, 
for them, whether or not they should be allowed to 
reach their post alive. 

That, indeed, was what it came to as soon as he fairly 
considered the subject of escape. If they once got him 
into a prison, he knew the chance of escape would be 
almost gone. Even when they reached the outpost it 
would be much more difficult. Theijg^was no time like 
the present, when he had only these two small men to 
cope with. 

Gil himself was quite startled when it first flashed 
upon him that he had the lives of his captors completely 
in his hands. He was so sure of it at any rate that he 
did not ask himself whether he could do it, but whether 
he should free himself in that way. 

The chief of the two soldiers, who led the way, showed 
Q 


226 


CADET STANDrSH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


no inclination to look around at his captive. He was 
willing enough to answer questions, but without pausing 
in his walk, and usually with no gesture but a shrug of 
his shoulders. 

Gil did not look around much either, but he knew by 
the sound that the other man was two or three paces 
behind him. This man in the rear, however, could not 
see through Gil's body, and had no means of knowing 
what happened immediately in front of him. And it 
was in his hands, which were of course in front of him, 
that Gil was most interested at the moment. 

He knew that to make a break for freedom he must 
have his hands loose, and one or two little tugs at the 
handcuffs had convinced him that he could easily re- 
lease himself. Though bright and new, they were of 
an old-fashioned pattern that never could be made to 
fit snugly, and he had often noticed in his boyish 
games that while his wrists were large and strong, his 
hands were so small that they would easily pull through 
any moderate fastening that encircled his wrists. 

That was what gave him such confidence in his abil- 
ity to escape. On first reaching the beach in the morn- 
ing he had taken the precaution to remove his revolver 
from the water-tight bag, and it lay ready for instant 
use in his coat pocket. And he had slipped on the coat 
as he walked up the path to the lady’s house, so he was 
prepared for quick action. He made a pretence of wip- 
ing his face with his handkerchief, and found that his 


GIL ESCAPES FROM HIS CAPTORS. 


227 


hands would slip through the steel wristlets with very 
little trouble. 

“ I can get rid of the handcuffs without attracting 
attention,” he reflected, “ and it is a second’s work to 
dispose of the man in front. Before the rear man can 
raise his rifle he will be down too, or at least under cover 
of my pistol. He cannot handle his awkward gun as I 
can my little revolver.” 

But — ! a very large and powerful but sprang into 
Gil’s mind as he laid this plan. It would not be enough 
merely to disable these men.’ They must be killed out- 
right, because being soldiers they might be transferred 
to any part of the island, and he should be in constant 
danger of meeting them — a danger that he hardly 
feared from the lady, who would be more likely to stay 
at home. 

And what would such cold-blooded killing be To 
be sure, their respective countries were at war, and there 
is no war without killing. But these men had treated 
him as kindly as they could, and they were only doing 
their duty, and such shooting without a moment’s warn- 
ing was very different from shooting in the excitement 
of battle. Then, on the other hand, there was his duty 
to his country. The country was in need of informa- 
tion which probably he could not get without killing 
these men. Was it therefore his duty to kill them for 
his country’s sake, leaving his own safety entirely out 
of the question ? 


228 


CADET STANDISn OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


It was a terribly hard thing for him to draw the line 
in just the right place between his duty to his country 
and his duty to his own conscience. “ Some time I 
may be telling mother the story of my capture,” he 
thought, “ and she will ask me what became of the two 
men. Can I look her in the face and tell her, ‘ I killed 
them both ! ’ On the other hand, what officer in the 
navy would not laugh at me if I were to hesitate ? ” 

Several times his hand was in his pocket fingering 
the butt of the revolver ; more than once the handcuffs 
were slipped half-way off, and both those unsuspecting 
men were within a hair’s-breadth of eternity. But we 
are not left always to decide these difficult questions 
for ourselves ; sometimes help comes so unexpectedly 
that it is enough to make us stop and think even 
harder than Gil was thinking that morning. 

The man in front suddenly showed fresh signs of 
animation. He did not look back ; it was something 
ahead of him that attracted his attention. He threw 
up his free hand that was not carrying the rifle, and 
whistled, and called out, “ Come, Toros ; come, old fel- 
low ! ” and Gil saw a large dog bounding joyfully down 
the path to meet them. 

It was something of the shepherd breed, but so 
emaciated that it was pitiful to see. It soon reached 
the little party, however, and sprang lovingly upon the 
leading man, barking with glee, resting its front paws 
upon his chest, and licking his hands. And the man 


GIL ESCAPES FROM HIS CAPTORS. 229 

patted it upon the head, and hugged it, and seemed so 
pleased himself, that Gil instantly concluded that the 
dog was the soldier’s pet, and had followed him on his 
errand, but had been ordered to wait at some distance 
from the house. 

“Are you so glad to see your master again, Toros ? ” 
the man asked, patting the dog’s head. “ And so hun- 
gry ? Ah, but that’s an old story, for we’re all hungry. 
If you don’t have enough to keep a cat alive, why, 
neither does your master, old chap. There was plenty 
where we’ve just been. I’ll warrant ; but not for you 
and me, old Toros. Not had a bite to-day ? Is that 
what you’re trying to tell me, comrade } Well, now, no 
more have I. But we’ll have something now, Toros ; 
we’ll sit right down here and do the best we can. You 
know the rules, Toros — share and share alike. You 
can always have half of mine ; but I can’t give you the 
whole, or you’d soon have no master.” 

All this time the dog had been frisking about like 
mad, and jumping upon his master ; but when the two 
men sat down upon the ground, with their guns by 
their sides and Gil seated between them, Toros knew 
what to expect and sat down facing them, his tail beat- 
ing the ground furiously, and a look of intense expec- 
tancy in his thin face. 

Each of the soldiers took the half of a small loaf of 
very black bread from his pocket — such dry, coarse- 
looking bread as Gil had never seen before ; and his 


230 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


brief military experience told him that that was a day’s 
rations for each man. The pieces were so exactly alike, 
in shape as well as in repulsiveness, that they might 
have been the two halves of the same loaf. 

Both men got out their worn pocket knives, and, 
after the continental peasant fashion, cut into the 
bread. Knowing this to be their entire store for the 
day, Gil watched them with great interest. He was 
not surprised to see each man cut his half-loaf into two 
exactly equal parts, for half must serve for a later meal. 
But he soon learned better than that. The man with 
the dog laid one of the halves in his lap, and sliced the 
other half and fed it to the hungry dog before taking 
a bite himself. 

And the other soldier.? The other man, the quiet 
little man who had trudged behind, meanwhile drove 
the point of his knife into one of his two portions, and 
with as much politeness as he could command, held it 
out for Gil, saying : — 

“ Eat, senor ; you are very welcome.” 

For an instant the captive was less polite than his 
Spanish captor; for he was taken by surprise, and he 
hesitated to look him in the face. 

These starving men,” he thought, “are sharing 
their last poor crust with their dog and with me ; 
and a minute ago I was thinking of killing them 
both ! ” 

In a moment he recovered himself, and with many 


GIL ESCAPES FROM HIS CAPTORS. 


231 


thanks broke off a small piece of the bread and began 
to eat, not wishing to offend by refusing. And he felt 
doubly thankful, for the very thing that had made it 
impossible for him to think longer of killing, had 
shown him how he could probably escape in a much 
more satisfactory way. 

Both men ate as if there was nothing in the world so 
good as that hard black bread, and both urged him to 
eat more with them. And Gil had no desire for more 
food, but he ate a little for the companionship, and soon 
had them engaged in conversation. 

It was a dreadful thing, he said, that the whole 
island was in such a starving condition, and the poor 
soldiers worst of all. And when they agreed with him, 
he expressed his sorrow that they had been put to so 
much trouble on his account, specially as it was all a 
mistake, and the commanding officer could do nothing 
but set him free. 

But maybe it was a good thing, after all, he went on, 
for he had found out that they were remarkably clever 
fellows; and if they liked to save themselves the 
trouble of taking him on to the outpost, but could 
invent some way of letting him escape without getting 
into trouble themselves, he had it in his power to pro- 
vide them both with a week of as good feeding as could 
be had on the island. 

*‘Why,” said he, seeing that his words made some 
impression upon them, “ I didn’t try to escape, you 


232 ' CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

know, after the first little brush we had ; it was easier 
just to let the officers set me free. But I could have 
done it at any minute. Look here.” 

He raised his manacled hands as he spoke, and with 
scarcely an effort released them both from the steel 
bands. 

The men laughed, for their prisoner made no effort 
to get up, and they were both interested in what he 
had said about food. And Gil had not pulled off the 
handcuffs without an object ; he immediately thrust 
one of his freed hands into his trousers pocket, as he 
could not have done when they were manacled, and 
felt carefully about till his fingers held two bright gold 
pieces, which he held up before their eyes. 

“You know what that means,” he said; “one of 
those for each of you, and nothing to do but just sit 
still here for ten minutes.” 

The conversation that followed that was not long- 
drawn-out. But if the officers of the outpost on the 
hill had been watching with a glass, a few minutes later, 
they might have seen what they must have thought 
one of the most daring escapes ever made from a pair 
of Spanish soldiers. 

A young prisoner had thrown off his manacles, and 
was flying across the country like a deer, bravely fol- 
lowed by two infantrymen with rifles, who were appar- 
ently running at the top of their speed, except when 
they paused long enough to send a few bullets after 


GIL ESCAPES FROM HIS CAPTORS. 


233 


the fugitive. And the flying prisoner was gaining, 
and would escape unless a bullet brought him down. 

How were those officers who might have been watch- 
ing to know that the soldiers had told their prisoner 
just what direction to take to avoid danger, or that 
they were taking great pains to shoot often without 
hitting anything.? 

It was a long, stubborn chase, to all appearances; 
and when Gil stopped running, more than four miles 
from the scene of his daring escape, his pursuers 
were out of sight. 

“ Dreadful bribery, that,” he panted, in snug con- 
cealment among the giant limbs of a great ceiba tree ; 
“but much better than killing them.” 


CHAPTER XVII. 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


OU must keep your wits about you, and be 



1 governed always by circumstances.” That was 
one of the things, Gil remembered, that Commander 
McCalla had said to him ; and he was satisfied, as he 
lay panting amOng the huge limbs of the ceiba tree, 
that it was excellent advice. Any plan that he had 
been ordered to follow blindly must certainly have 
brought him into trouble. 

He must be governed by circumstances ; and pres- 
ent circumstances seemed to demand that he should 
make a sudden change in his plans. On his first day 
in Cuba he had been, if not discovered, at least sus- 
pected, and that would not do ; and suspected by 
a lady who had the means and very likely the in- 
clination to have him followed when she heard of his 
escape. Instead of priding himself upon his easy 
escape, he covered himself with blame for having 
been captured. 

“ If I hadn’t got into the scrape,” he said to him- 
self, “ I’d have had no need to get out of it. It’s 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


235 


a good lesson for me, of course, and I shall profit 
by it. The trouble is, in this delicate profession I 
am following, a fellow is liable to lose his head with 
the first lesson he misses.” 

It was plain that he must give up all thought of see- 
ing the Standish place at present. It would never do to 
be loitering about within a few miles of that dangerous 
Spanish woman, and of the outpost, which might send 
a new guard after him almost immediately. Many of 
his minor arrangements must be changed on the spot ; 
but the one main point remained unaltered, that he 
must get to or near Santiago without another moment’s 
delay, to give immediate information about the position 
of each ship, in case of the arrival of Cervera’s fleet. 
All other things were insignificant compared with that. 

In a few minutes he was able to breathe regularly 
again after his long run, and as there were no signs of 
any further pursuit he let himself gently down from his 
perch. He was far away now from the Santiago road, 
which at any rate he thought it was better for him to 
avoid until he had a chance to make some changes in 
his appearance. If he did not happen upon any by- 
roads, it would be no great hardship to walk the re- 
maining distance across fields or through the occasional 
forests. 

The position of the sun satisfied him that the time 
was barely past noon, or at the most one o’clock, and 
his distance from Santiago he estimated at fourteen 


236 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

miles — for in his diagonal run across country in escap- 
ing from the soldiers he must have gained fully two 
miles toward the west. Fourteen miles he could walk 
in three and a half hours, and he could still reach San- 
tiago before five o’clock, if he met with no further 
adventures. 

It is no breach of confidence to say that the young 
scout proceeded now with much greater caution than 
before. Instead of going boldly along, anxious to meet 
people of whom he might ask questions, he took pains 
to meet no one at all, knowing that to talk with a 
native might be to put pursuers upon his track. 

He had run well out of the large open field, but the 
ground was still unobstructed except for many palm 
trees growing singly, and some clusters of that most 
beautiful of Cuban growths, the groups generally hav- 
ing a mass of thick foliage beneath them, good for both 
shade and shelter. He took the Indian plan of going 
from one of these groups to another as rapidly as pos- 
sible, pausing a moment at each to look about for 
pursuers or even casual travellers. The Standish place 
was still in plain sight, much nearer, indeed, than when 
he had first seen it ; but his progress was rapid, and in 
a short time it lay between him and the sea, and in 
less than an hour he had left it behind. 

When he had traversed five or six miles in this way, 
carefully avoiding the dwelling-houses, which became 
more numerous as he advanced, a turn in the valley 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


237 


through which he went brought him suddenly upon a 
road. He rightly conjectured that this must lead to 
Santiago, and he knew that as he neared the city he 
could not avoid meeting people. To postpone that 
danger as long as possible, however, he kept out of 
the road, but followed its course at a safe distance 
across the country, and after another hour he began 
to think that he must soon come upon the suburbs of 
the city. 

Having walked sixteen or eighteen miles since sun- 
rise, without any sleep the night before, he began to 
feel jaded; but he was still determined to reach his 
destination before resting, and he was in hopes of end- 
ing his journey in another hour, when from a little rise 
in the land he saw a considerable village lying directly 
in front of him. 

This was an unpleasant surprise, for he had no 
knowledge of the existence of such a place; and he 
immediately turned sharply to the south to avoid it, 
crossing the road and making a wide detour. 

“There was no such village on any of the maps of 
Santiago I have seen,” he said to himself. “ It must 
be a very insignificant place.” 

And so it was at that time. Not being a prophet, 
he could not foresee that in less than two months the 
whole world would be familiar with the name of that 
little place. In making his detour to avoid danger he 
was going directly between two points soon to become 


238 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

famous in American history, and within easy rifle-shot 
of either, — El Caney and San Juan hill. 

He soon saw, however, that after circling around the 
village he must make his way back to the road, which 
seemed to be the main highway into the city. He 
could not see the city yet, but knew it must be just 
beyond the hills in front of him, and he would be less 
likely to attract attention in following the road than if 
he were seen crossing the fields. 

The sun still had two or three more hours’ work to 
do, which meant that it must be between four and five 
o’clock, when Gil joined the stragglers who were travel- 
ling in both directions on the Santiago road. Holding 
no conversation with any of them, beyond giving civil 
answers several times when questions were asked him, 
he was soon on the summit of the eastern hills, and the 
strange old city of Santiago and its beautiful harbor lay 
before him. 

Other people were stopping to look at the extensive 
view, so it would attract no attention for him to do the 
same. * 

‘‘Ah, senor,” said one grizzled old man who stood 
near him, leaning heavily upon a rough cane, “these 
are sad times for our poor old city ! ” 

“ Sad, indeed, senor ! ” he answered, thinking that 
no answer could be safer than that. But he did not, 
nevertheless, lift his eyes from the harbor, every foot of 
which, at the base of the steep slope, was within his 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


239 


range — every foot, that is, except the narrow entrance 
past Morro Castle, with its precipitous sides. 

“No signs of any Spanish fleet there!” he said to 
himself, with almost a sigh of relief. “ It would have 
been a pull to have to locate the ships and make my way 
back to my own ship to-night after this long walk ; but 
I’d have managed it somehow. Plenty of steamers and 
sailing-vessels here, too ; but they’re merchantmen, not 
warships — got in here to escape from our fleets, of 
course.” 

He saw that he still had a long walk before him to 
reach the heart of the town, which must be down by 
the water. The few houses that now dotted the road- 
side were small and mean, and many of them deserted 
and going to ruin. 

“There is almost sure to be a military post some- 
where on the road,” he reflected, “ and I shall do best 
by being with other people.” So he stayed among the 
fifteen or twenty others who were going in the same 
direction. 

He was in the Camino del Caney,, which in plain 
English means El Caney road. And he had done 
better for himself and his country than he knew, fop 
it is one of the main thoroughfares into Santiago, 
though rough and dirty enough, paved with uneven 
stones and narrow as a lane, without any pretence 
of sidewalks. The state of the road was nothing to 
him, but in circling around El Caney he had uncon- 


240 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


sciously avoided the Canoso fort and its strict guard 
of the road. Once past El Caney, as he now was, 
he was free to enter the city without challenge. But 
if the morning’s adventure had not taught him caution, 
he would almost certainly have fallen into the hands 
of the Spanish guard. 

Now he began to make his way into and across the 
city. The small scattered houses became even fewer, for 
he was still well in the outskirts, and he was startled in 
a moment to find that he was passing the big barracks, 
the Cuartel de Concha, where the broad grounds were 
sprinkled with soldiers. But no one was challenged 
or stopped, and the people passed unconcernedly by. 
Then he came to another open space, cemetery on one 
side and market on the other ; and beyond that the 
road broke into three or four broad streets. 

He chose the street on the right, the one passing the 
Viejo cemetery and a strange-looking old church, which 
led him into still another, called, as a sign informed 
him, the Calle Alta de San Geronimo. Presently there 
was a sharp hitch in the street, and although it seemed 
still to be the same street, the signs called it Calle 
Baja de San Geronimo. There was nothing puzzling 
to Gil in the names, for he knew that they meant 
simply upper St. Geronimo Street and lower St. Geron- 
imo Street. He was nearing the harbor; and with 
every step there were more people in sight, and the 
buildings were better and more compact. 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


241 


At a quarter of six o’clock exactly, he stood at the 
corner of lower St. Geronimo Street and a broad thor- 
oughfare called Calle de la Factoria, and felt that one 
part of his mission, at any rate, was accomplished ; he 
had safely entered the blockaded city of Santiago de 
Cuba. 

No trouble to tell the time now. He was in the 
heart of the city, and the streets were full of people 
who seemed to care nothing about the war, and clocks 
were plenty — there was one indeed in the window 
of the jeweller’s shop in front of which he stood. 

Looking further down the street, he saw that he was 
only two blocks from the harbor. And looking about 
him at the people, he saw that most of them looked 
very much as they must have looked before the war 
began. Some, to be sure, were ragged, emaciated, and 
worn ; but there were plenty of exquisites in fine 
clothes, and solid business men looking comfortable 
and well fed, and even a few fine ladies passing in car- 
riages. The affairs of the city were, to all appearance, 
moving along much as in times of peace. 

Having satisfied himself upon that point, Gil stood 
on the corner for ten minutes longer, watching the 
fashions. He never in his life before had taken any 
interest in the fashions, but now it was a very impor- 
tant matter for him, for he was about to take a step 
that required great care. He had done a heap of 
thinking since his escape from the Spanish soldiers. 


242 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


and as a result there had been some wonderful changes 
in his family affairs — not his real family, but the 
imaginary family of which he was trying to believe 
himself a member. 

The sick mother in Porto Rico had either died or 
recovered during his long walk to Santiago; at any 
rate, he took no more interest in her. She must be 
cruelly deserted by her son in her hour of need, 
because he had given that account of himself to the 
inhospitable Spanish lady, and if he used it again and 
she tried to trace him, it would give her too ready a 
clew. That was one of the things he had thought out. 

And it was his intention that the Cuban country boy 
in the bare feet and the ragged straw hat should within 
an hour disappear utterly from the face of the earth. 
That, too, he had decided upon, and it was that which 
had kept him walking across Santiago till he came to 
a street full of retail stores. He knew just what kind 
of a person was to take the country boy’s place; but 
even with money in your pocket it is a delicate, and 
sometimes a dangerous, matter for a man to change 
his appearance completely, specially in a strange place, 
and one where all strangers must be looked upon with 
suspicion. So he set about it very cautiously, knewing 
that, tired as he was, his day’s work was not yet nearly 
done. 

Having satisfied himself about the fashions, he 
walked carelessly through several blocks till he came 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


243 


to a gentlemen’s furnishing store ; and there, knowing 
just what he wanted, he went in. 

“ I should like to have a pair of stockings,” he said 
to the dark young clerk. 

It did not take him long to learn that judged by the 
Cuban standard he was blessed with very large feet. 
He had always thought them rather small and neat, 
but the Cubans are as small in their feet as in the 
rest of their bodies, and the clerk had to search through 
many boxes before he found stockings large enough. 
They were found at length, however, and bought, and 
he went out carrying in his coat pocket the first link 
in the new chain he was forging. 

Then he found a shoe store and went in ; and there 
he had vastly more difficulty than with the stockings. 
He knew by his uncle’s telling of the ridiculous shape 
of Cuban shoes, but he never imagined them quite as 
bad as the reality proved. Having drawn on the stock- 
ings, he examined pair after pair of shoes as the clerk 
brought them ; but they were not only much too small, 
but too high and narrow in the heel, too highly arched 
in the instep. 

Both he and the clerk smiled as pair after pair 
proved to be far too small ; but at length the clerk 
remembered a single pair that had stood in the shop so 
long that they were covered with dust. 

“ I think they will be just the thing for you,” the 
clerk said, as he cleaned them with a feather brush. 


244 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“They were made to order for an English captain who 
did not call for them.” 

They were indeed just what Gil wanted; a rational 
pair of Oxford ties made of soft kid, with broad low 
heels and square toes; and he was delighted to find 
that they fitted him very comfortably. They looked 
neat and tidy over the new black stockings ; and as he 
rolled down his trousers to their full length he felt that 
he had made a long step toward becoming a civilized 
young man again. 

His next venture was into a hat store, where he ex- 
changed his tattered old straw for another straw of 
such fine and tough texture that the clerk rolled it into 
a cylinder to show that it was indestructible. Its color 
was nearly white, its brim much broader than the other, 
and its only ornament was a very narrow band of 
black ribbon. It was precisely such a hat as he had 
seen some of the best-dressed men wearing in the 
street; and when he put it upon his head and stood 
before the big mirror in the shop, he was forced to 
smile to see what a change the hat and shoes made in 
his appearance. With his coat well buttoned up, he 
was a very presentable young man already. 

But the transformation was only half made. The 
experience of the morning had made him far too cau- 
tious to buy his entire outfit in any one place, as he 
might easily have done. To go into a shop a country 
boy, and come out a well-dressed young man, would 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 245 

naturally arouse the shopman’s curiosity, and might put 
the authorities upon his track. 

It was much safer to make his changes gradually, 
as he was doing; and within the next half-hour he 
had visited a different furnishing store, where he had 
bought a fine linen shirt, with cuffs and collar attached, 
and a gauzy flowing silk tie of dark blue, both of which 
he had put on. 

With these evidences of comfortable circumstances, 
he was ready for the tailors ; but in the first shop he 
went no further than the trousers and vest. He soon 
replaced his coarse lower garments with a pair of fine 
duck, with vest to match, of a light buff color ; and in 
another shop he exchanged his faded coat for a fine 
garment of thin black diagonal cloth, saying in each 
place that the old articles were to be kept until he sent 
for them. 

The new coat was pretty nearly the last straw, with 
the few contents of his pockets carefully transferred 
from the old clothes to the new. Almost, but not 
quite. He had noticed that nearly every gentleman in 
the streets carried a very thin light cane ; and as a 
number of these were offered for sale where he bought 
the coat, he bought one. 

Can you tell me,” he asked the tailor, thinking his 
transformation as complete now as he could make it, 
“ of a good caf^ near by ? A restaurant where I can 
get a substantial dinner ? ” 


246 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“ Very few of the caf6s are open,” the man replied. 
“ Unless you are a member of the Casino, about the 
only good place is the cafe Venus. It is rather a long 
walk, but one of the hacks will take you there in a few 
minutes.” 

As Gil stepped out to the curb and signalled with his 
cane to the driver of a passing hack, his nearest friend 
could not have doubted for a moment that the Cuban 
country boy had disappeared utterly. The inhospitable 
Spanish lady could never find him, because he did not 
exist. In his place there had sprung up a fine-looking 
young man of pleasing appearance, of dark complexion, 
but hardly as dark as the average of young Cubans, 
neatly dressed in well-fitting clothes, with an ease of 
manner that was not one of the least of his acquire- 
ments from travel. There was nothing of the dandy 
about him ; he might more naturally have been taken 
for a young man of good family in some easy employ- 
ment ; and as if he had always been doing such things, 
he stepped into the hack and started for the cafe Venus. 

Amusement, excitement, and fatigue all had a place 
in his mind and body as the carriage rolled rapidly 
through the steep and uneven, streets of Santiago. He 
was tired enough to fall instantly asleep on the hard 
cushions, but to some extent the excitement kept him 
up ; and he was thoroughly amused at the rapid change 
he had made in his appearance and condition. 

“One thing is sure,” he said to himself, as he leaned 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


247 


back against the cushion. If I have to spend as 
much money every day in Cuba as I’ve spent to-day, 
the government will soon have to issue more bonds.” 

In a few minutes he was set down in front of the 
restaurant, which looked delightful to him because it 
offered both rest and food. It was in a queer old 
building whose second story projected so far over the 
first that it almost covered the narrow sidewalk ; and in 
its big front windows there was no glass, only heavy 
iron bars. 

Gil recognized that it would not do for him to show 
curiosity about anything. He must act, as far as possi- 
ble, as though everything was familiar to him. When 
he stepped inside he found a large room with a very 
high boarded ceiling in which the cross-beams showed 
and both ceiling and beams painted a light blue. There 
were a great many small tables, some for two and some 
for four persons, with bamboo chairs ; and the floor, he 
noticed, was paved with marble. At the inner end a long 
bar, with a profusion of mirrors, extended completely 
across the room ; and more than half the tables were 
occupied by customers who ate and drank as compla- 
cently as if the whole island were in the happiest state. 

He chose one of the small tables for two, with as 
much of the air of an old frequenter of the place 
as he could assume, and soon found from the bill of 
fare that the food was limited to a few varieties, of 
which fish formed a large proportion, and that the 


248 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

prices were extremely high. He ordered a substantial 
meal of meat and fish ; and the first dishes had just 
arrived, when another gentleman seated himself at the 
opposite end of the table. 

“ Good evening, senor,” the newcomer said, after the 
fashion of the country. 

As Gil politely but briefly returned the salutation, he 
saw that his neighbor was a fine-looking gentleman of 
perhaps thirty-four or thirty-five, with dark complexion, 
and dark mustache and beard to match, the latter 
carefully trimmed to a point under the chin. His 
clothes were of the best material and cut, though 
heavier, Gil thought, than suited the climate ; and the 
hat that he had hung up on a hook was a high black 
beaver. He looked like a man of substance and posi- 
tion, and Gil noticed that the waiter treated him with 
great deference. 

The few remarks that they exchanged during the 
meal could hardly be called a conversation, being con- 
fined to such things as commonly pass between near 
neighbors at a restaurant table ; but Gil could not help 
observing that it was the other who spoke first on each 
occasion, and that it was purely for the sake of making 
a sociable meal, for he took up none but the most com- 
monplace topics, and even then spoke with great cau- 
tion. But Gil was equally cautious in his replies, not 
caring to add an evening chapter to his morning’s 
experience. 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


249 


When he had finished his dinner, having taken ample 
time to it, like his neighbor, and having given the 
waiter so liberal a tip that he felt assured of his friend- 
ship, Gil asked, as the waiter handed him his hat : — 

“ Can you tell me of some good place where I can 
be accommodated with a night’s lodging ? ” 

“I’m afraid not, sir,” the waiter replied; “it’s very 
hard to get accommodations in the city just now, sir. 
There are no hotels, and such places as take lodgers 
are mostly either closed or crowded.” 

“ Well, that’s bad ! ” Gil laughed, though he felt as 
if nothing would be such a luxury as a good night’s 
rest. “ But there must be some place a man can sleep, 
in a city of this size. Can’t you think of any sort of 
place } ” 

He noticed as he spoke that his neighbor was look- 
ing keenly at him, as if making up his mind what man- 
ner of man he was ; and before the waiter could answer 
the gentleman spoke for him. 

“ It is very hard to find any sort of accommodation 
in the city just now,” he said. “ But we flatter our- 
selves that what we lack in facilities we make up in 
hospitality. I am at present alone in my house, where 
there is ample room ; and as you are evidently a stran- 
ger I shall feel flattered if you will allow me to be your 
host till you can make better arrangements.” 

“Oh, thank you very much, sefior,” Gil instantly 
answered; “but I could not think of intruding upon 


250 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


you in such a way. If you would recommend me to 
some place, senor, I should be glad to pay liberally.” 

“Oh, it is not a question of pay,” the gentleman 
laughed ; “ I do not keep a hotel. But I do not like 
to see a respectable young man without a place to lay 
his head, when I have beds in abundance.” 

Beyond thanking him warmly for his kindness, Gil 
hardly knew what to say. The burnt child dreads the 
fire, and he had no fancy for burning his fingers twice 
on the same day. But, on the other hand, to spend the 
night without a proper lodging would be likely to 
expose him to the attention of the police. While he 
rapidly deliberated, however, the question was settled 
for him. 

“The young senor is very fortunate,” the smiling 
waiter said. “ It is not every stranger in the city who 
has the honor of an invitation from Senor Warfield. 
You cannot do better than accept it, senor.” 

The gentleman was so evidently known to the 
restaurant people, and his own need was so pressing, 
that Gil instantly came to the same conclusion ; and 
there followed a few moments of those polite hesitancies 
and urgings that are common to all countries. In the 
end the only question was whether they should walk or 
ride to Senor Warfield’s residence. 

“ Is it far, senor.? ” Gil asked. 

“ Oh, just a fine walk for a pleasant evening,” his new 
host answered. “ It is down on the edge of the harbor.” 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


25 


“ Then I hope you will permit me to do the honors 
with a hack,” Gil said; “I have walked so far to-day 
that I could hardly do another mile.” 

And the words were scarcely out of his mouth before 
he felt that he had said a little too much already. 

“ Have you come far ^ ” the stranger asked, with evi- 
dent interest. 

“ I had some business beyond El Caney,” Gil 
cautiously answered, “and walked into the city.” 

“No wonder you are tired, then,” said the gentle- 
man, in a sympathetic tone ; “ we will ride by all 
means.” And within five minutes they were in another 
of the Santiago hacks, tearing like mad through the 
rough and dimly lighted streets. 

Though he was still on the alert for danger, Gil was 
fairly worn out with the day’s experience ; and as the 
hack wheels plunged furiously into ravine-like ruts, or 
dashed wildly against loose boulders, threatening de- 
struction at every moment, it seemed to his dozing fancy 
as if they were singing a tune of utter indifference : — 

“We may get there, 

Or we may not. 

Just as it happens, 

And the fare’s the same.” 

Cabby brought them safely through all the dangers, 
however, and brought up with a jerk at his destination, 
and they both sprang out. 


252 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


And the first look at the building, in the dim light, 
gave the young scout another shock. It seemed as if 
there was to be positively no end to adventure that day. 
For this was no residence at all that they had come to, 
but an immense low building that seemed to cover the 
entire block, and that might have been a warehouse, or 
a barrack, or a freight depot, or anything in the world 
but the house of a hospitable Cuban. The long rows 
of windows were closed up tight with heavy iron 
shutters; and in the middle was an immense door- 
way, arched, that a load of hay might have been 
driven through, closed with two heavy, iron-studded 
doors. 

“ It is my place of business,” Senor Warfield 
said, noticing the expression of surprise in Gil’s 
face. 

He took from his pocket a key that seemed to Gil 
about the size of a banquet lamp, unlocked one of the 
great doors, threw it open, and led the way in. 

When they were both in the total darkness of the 
interior, Senor Warfield struck a match and lighted 
a candle that stood on a convenient shelf, put the key 
inside and locked the door, shot two immense iron 
bolts, and put up two thick wooden bars that stood in 
the corner. 

Gil saw by the dim light that they were in a broad 
corridor, walled and paved with stone. 

Senor Warfield stepped up to a stout wire that hung 


A FRIEND IN NEED. 


253 


loose against one of the walls and pulled it with a jerk, 
and a strange-sounding bell jingled somewhere in the 
distance. 

Gil quietly slipped his hand around to the new 
pocket in which his revolver lay. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 

HAT that bell might summon was a matter of 



V V considerable interest to Gil. Would it be a 
prison turnkey with a bunch of great keys dangling 
in his hand? or a file of soldiers? He must soon 
know, for Senor Warfield stood waiting with his hand 
still upon the wire, as if expecting an immediate 
answer. 

Even then he did not regret that he had walked into 
the big building and allowed himself to be locked in. 
Better take his chances there, with a good revolver in 
his pocket, than run the risk of passing the night with- 
out shelter, and falling into the hands of the authorities. 

In a moment he heard a sound like the closing of a 
distant door, and then a faint light appeared a long way 
off — so distant that it seemed a block away ; but it 
gradually grew nearer, without any sound of footsteps, 
and presently it entered the corridor in which they 
stood. 

It proved to be nothing more formidable than a 
candle carried by a Cuban boy, who had evidently 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 255 

been roused from sleep by the bell, for he wore 
nothing but shirt and trousers, and had the look of 
one suddenly awakened. 

And he was so handsome and innocent-looking a 
boy that Gil was ready to laugh at his former suspi- 
cions. About sixteen or seventeen years old he seemed 
to be, and of average height for a Cuban of that age, 
with a suspicion of pink showing through the rich ma- 
hogany color of his face, and a mass of wavy black hair 
that stole almost down to his bright chestnut eyes. 
Evidently a servant by his bearing, he looked like an 
intelligent one. 

“ Rafael,” Senor Warfield said to the newcomer, as 
they stepped forward to meet him, “this gentleman 
will be my guest to-night, and I hope for some time. 
I want you to make him as comfortable as possible in 
the room adjoining mine ; and let him want for noth- 
ing.” 

“ Yes, sir,” the boy answered cheerfully, as though 
he were used to orders of that kind. 

They were walking down the corridor together, and 
soon emerged, through a broad doorway without any 
door, into a vast warehouse that seemed, by their dim 
light, limitless in size, but perfectly empty; and the 
ring of their boot-heels upon the stone-paved floor 
echoed uncannily among the invisible rafters. 

“ It is too early for me to think of turning in yet,” 
Senor Warfield said to Gil as they crossed the long 


256 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

t 

warehouse, ‘‘and I have some outside matters to see 
to that may keep me out late. But I brought you di- 
rectly here because I know you must be tired out. I 
leave you in good hands, for Rafael will not neglect 
you until I return. Do not fail to show the way to 
the bathing-pool, Rafael, for nothing is more refresh- 
ing after a day’s work, not even sleep itself. And now 
if you will pardon my absence for the present, senor, 
I will leave you in Rafael’s hands. Do not hesitate to 
ask for anything you want.” 

They had crossed the warehouse by this time and 
entered a courtyard in which trees and flowers were 
growing, and the host, after shaking Gil’s hand and 
wishing him pleasant dreams, turned into a narrower 
hallway, which evidently led to a smaller and more pri- 
vate exit. Rafael, however, kept directly on across the 
courtyard with the candle, and Gil of course followed. 

They went into a small vestibule in a rear building 
and up a flight of stairs, and during the ascent Rafael 
blew out his candle, for the place was well lighted with 
gas. It was only the big warehouse that was dark 
and ghostly ; in this rear part, which in its upper story 
was evidently the living apartments, everything looked 
cheerful and homelike. 

There was a large corridor there, too, paved with red 
tiles, from which eight or ten doors, nearly all stand- 
ing open, led to as many sleeping and other rooms, 
only one of which bore any signs of occupancy. 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 257 

“ This will be your room, senor,” Rafael said, as he 
led the way into the chamber next the one that was 
occupied, and lighted the gas. 

“ Oh, I shall sleep famously here, Rafael,” Gil 
said, wishing to have some conversation with the 
boy. 

Indeed, it was a room that any tired young sailor 
might well have slept famously in. Large, sixteen or 
eighteen feet in each direction, with a very high ceil- 
ing of boards painted a delicate pink, with red tiles 
for a floor, with two large iron-barred windows with 
no glass, but inside shutters of wood, it was extremely 
plain, like most Cuban- sleeping rooms, but designed 
to give its occupant what is most needed in that 
climate, — plenty of fresh air. There was a broad brass 
bedstead, with a mosquito canopy over it and a rug 
on the floor by its side, and a dressing-case of white- 
enamelled wood; and two or three chairs completed 
the simple furnishing; and the bed looked deliciously 
white and cool. 

“Yes, sir, I think we can make you comfortable 
here,” Rafael answered. 

“ Nothing will make me as comfortable as to get 
into that bathing-pool the sefior spoke of,” Gil con- 
tinued, “and then right into bed. I have had a very 
long walk to-day, and am about used up.” 

He threw himself into one of the chairs as he 
spoke, feeling that it would be hard work to take 


258 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

another step ; and almost before he knew it Rafael 
was untying his shoes. 

I thought you looked very tired, sir,” the boy 
said; “but you’ll have nothing to do now but rest. 
I’ll have you in the bath in just a minute, sir.” 

Gil had never been in the hands of an experienced 
valet before, and had no idea that any man could 
perform such useful services. In almost no time 
Rafael not only had him ready for the bath, but his 
clothes all either neatly folded or hung up, and one 
of Senor Warfield’s bath-robes thrown over his shoul- 
ders, and a pair of bath-slippers on his feet. 

But when the boy led the -way to the bath-room, 
across the corridor, it seemed to Gil almost as if he 
had wandered into fairyland. It was as large as two 
or three of the other rooms, with both floor and walls 
plated with white marble, and instead of a bath-tub, a 
'tank sunk into the floor in the centre, large enough 
for a dozen men, and covered with blue-and-white 
tiles. And into the tank a small but constant stream 
of water flowed from a pipe, so that it might be 
always fresh, and when the tank was nearly full the 
surplus water flowed out through a larger pipe in the 
opposite end. 

Gil lost no time in throwing off his gown and slippers 
and plunging into the clear cool water ; and while he 
splattered about and washed away half the fatigues of 
the day, Rafael disappeared, to return in a moment 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 259 

with a small square basket loaded with toilet requisites 
— towels, brushes, sponges, and bottles of perfume ; 
and when he left the water in a few minutes feeling 
like a new man, he went through such a course of 
drying, brushing, and spraying with perfume at the 
hands of Rafael, that he was not quite sure that he was 
indeed Gilbert Standish, late of Cairo, Greene County, 
New York. 

While Rafael was stowing him away for the night, 
which in the case of a good Cuban valet means arrang- 
ing the bed for him, letting down the mosquito canopy, 
opening the inside shutters, and putting out the light, 
Gil took the opportunity to ask him a few questions 
about the hospitable gentleman by whom he was fur- 
nished with all these luxuries. 

‘‘This is Senor Warfield’s place of business, is it, 
Rafael.? ” he asked. “ And does he live here.? ” 

“Yes, senor,” Rafael replied; “he lives here, and so 
do a number of the clerks. But it is all done now till 
this horrid war is over — clerks gone, business stopped, 
and the great warehouse empty. This is a very large 
firm, senor; one of the largest in Cuba. I shall be 
just across the corridor if you should want anything in 
the night. Good night, senor.” 

“Good night, Rafael.” And Gil’s efforts to think 
over the events of the day were all unavailing, for in 
another minute he was enjoying the sleep he had well 
earned, not to be disturbed even by the late entrance of 


26 o 


CADET STANDISH OF TTTE ST. LOUIS. 


Senor Warfield, though the door between their rooms 
stood open. 

He might have slept on indefinitely if he had not 
been gently aroused in the early morning by hearing 
some one stirring in his room. It was Rafael, who had 
come with a tray on which were a cup of steaming 
coffee, a hot roll, and a little pot of white unsalted 
butter. 

“ Good morning, senor,” said he, as he set the tray 
down on the side of the bed within easy reach. “ Senor 
Warfield sends his compliments, and hopes you had a 
good night’s sleep.” 

Before Gil could answer, Senor Warfield himself 
appeared in the doorway, in bath-gown and slippers, 
and holding his cup of coffee in his hand. 

“Good morning, senor!” he exclaimed; “I hope 
Rafael took good care of you after I left you last 
night.” 

“ He bathed me and put me to bed, like a good 
nurse, senor,” Gil laughed ; “ and I don’t think I 

turned over once all night. I shall never be able to 
thank you for your hospitality.” 

“ Then don’t try,” said his host, taking a sip of coffee, 
“for it is a pleasure to me to have company. I 
generally have a dozen young men here with me, and 
they nuke it so lively I feel the difference now they’re 
gone. But I think you are only beginning your visit 
with me. I made some inquiries last night, and I find 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 26 1 

it will be^ impossible for you to rent comfortable 
quarters anywhere in the town at present ; so you 
must be my guest while you are in Santiago, whether 
or no.” 

Gil demurred to this, as he naturally must, and hinted 
that he should be delighted to stay if he could be 
allowed to pay for his accommodations. But his host 
laughed at such an idea, and insisted that Gil should 
remain his guest. 

“ We are very free in our hours just now,” he con- 
tinued, “ while the business is closed ; but we have 
breakfast on the verandah every morning at twelve, 
and I usually dine at the cafe Venus at seven. So if 
you will make it a point to be here at twelve, you need 
trouble yourself with no other rules.” 

“ You will have no trouble to find the place,” he went 
on. “ Any one can direct you to the Almirez & War- 
field warehouse, and you will find it convenient to use 
the side door that I went out of last night. And by 
the way, we had better introduce ourselves. My name 
is Warfield, as I think you know.” 

“ I ought to have asked you sooner, senor,” Gil 
answered, “to call me Ramon Ortiz. I am looking 
for—” 

“Yes, looking for a lodging,” Senor Warfield inter- 
rupted. “ And now you have found it. I no 

curiosity about your business in Santiago, Sflhor 
Ramon, and perhaps in these troubled times it is 


262 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


better for me not to know it — unless, indeed,” he 
hastily added, “ I can be of any service to you.” 

Gil thanked him for the kind offer, and promised to 
be on hand promptly for breakfast, saying that he had 
some matters to attend to during the morning. 

It was well, he thought, while Senor Warfield was 
dressing and preparing to go out, that he had settled 
that name business in advance. Pedro Alvarez, the 
country boy, had disappeared, and his name must die 
with him. Ramon Ortiz he did not think as fine a 
name, but it would do for a few days. 

After another plunge in the blue-and-white tank, and 
more careful attentions on the part of Rafael, Gil went 
out to make his first deliberate observations in the city 
of Santiago. As he could put nothing on paper, 
neither word nor diagram, everything that he saw must 
be firmly fixed in his mind. He gave the greater part 
of the morning to an examination of the harbor and its 
immediate surroundings, and was relieved to find that 
there were still no signs of Admiral Cervera’s ships. 

He could go, he discovered, anywhere about the city 
without challenge, except, of course, into the forts ; and 
he was not slow to see that a few days of hard work 
would put him in possession of information that would 
be invaluable in case of an attack upon the place. So 
far he had carried out his instructions to the letter, and 
good fortune or something better had smoothed the 
way for him while in the city. 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 263 

That first morning’s work gave him a good general 
idea not only of the harbor, but also of three of the 
important forts on the south side of the city : the fuerte 
Gesu, fuerte Punta Blanca, and fuerte del Centro, and 
of their garrisons and armaments; and when he re- 
turned to the warehouse to breakfast at noon, Senor 
Warfield was already there. 

To sit on a shady veranda and eat a capital break- 
fast at noon, in good company, with the consciousness 
that he had done a good morning’s work, and that he 
was performing his whole duty, was as much luxury 
as a young engineer from the St. Louis could well ask 
for. The only drawbacks were that Ben Hanway was 
not there to see him, and that there was no possible 
chance of communicating with home. 

It did not surprise him that the breakfast was such 
a meal as he would have called a remarkably good 
dinner at home, beginning with soup and going through 
the whole course of fish, roasts, and sweets, for he 
knew the Cuban custom ; but he was surprised that 
Rafael, who was evidently the only servant in the 
building, could cook and serve so excellent a repast. 

He could not help feeling anxious about the news of 
the war, for there was the possibility that Cervera might 
have escaped the watchful eyes of our fleets and have 
made an attack upon some American port. But he 
soon saw that if Senor Warfield knew of any public 
affairs, he was well able to keep the knowledge to him- 


264 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

self. A remarkably reticent man was Senor Warfield, 
except on the most trivial affairs. He could talk 
fluently about his losses in business, and the high 
prices of jerked beef and black beans; but whenever 
Gil spoke of the war or the blockade, he promptly 
changed the subject. 

“ I was going to give you a view of the town this 
morning,” the senor said, when the breakfast was 
over, “to help you in finding your way about; but it 
slipped my mind. However, it is not too late now, if 
you feel like climbing a few stairs.” 

Gil was perfectly willing, and he followed his host 
up to his sleeping room. There Senor Warfield opened 
a door at one side of the room, disclosing what seemed 
to be the end of a narrow spiral iron staircase. 

“ This leads to a balcony on the roof,” he explained. 
“In better times we are interested in a great many of 
the ships that enter and leave the harbor, and from the 
balcony we can watch their movements.” 

He led the way up, and in a moment they were on a 
small platform on the top of the building, surrounded 
by a strong iron rail. 

“You see there is a fine view of everything from 
here,” Senor Warfield said; “the harbor, the whole 
city, and the mountains beyond. That large building 
just back of us is the Cathedral ; and here nearly in 
front is the railway station. And do you see that old 
wreck lying over the end of the harbor.? just beyond 


THE ALMIREZ & WARFIELD WAREHOUSE. 265 

the black steamer with the yellow funnel ? That is what 
is left of the ancient Spanish ship the St. Paul, the 
flagship of the great Spanish Armada. You must 
come up here whenever you feel inclined ; it is a great 
place for a fine cool breeze.” 

“ This place must have been made expressly for my 
use,” Gil said to himself as he thanked Senor Warfield 
for his kindness. “ Here I can keep a lookout for 
Cervera’s fleet.” 


CHAPTER XIX. 


SURPRISING NEWS FROM CONSUL RAMSDEN. 

HE trifling matters are always pushing themselves 



1 forward and giving us more concern than the 
great ones. Here was Gil safely arrived in the hostile 
city of Santiago, and settled in better quarters than he 
had ever occupied before in his life, and getting in- 
formation as fast as he could expect, and yet he was 
troubled in mind about so unimportant a thing as 
clothes. 

The fact was that after his first morning’s work in the 
hot city, his new clothes began to look and to feel 
decidedly the worse for wear. His shirt was soiled 
and crumpled, the collar was wilted, and his new 
trousers, being made of what the ladies call “wash 
goods,” already showed unsightly signs of use. 

Senor Warfield’s clothes were something quite aston- 
ishing to the young scout. Every time that Gil saw 
him he was in a fresh outfit from head to foot, and the 
shirts and other linen garments that were scattered 
about his room seemed sufficient to clothe the whole 
crew of the St. Louis. 


266 


SURPRISING NEWS FROM CONSUL RAMSDEN. 26^ 

Bad as Gil’s clothes had already become, he knew 
that every hour would make them worse; and to re- 
place them he must buy more, and to buy more he 
must have money. 

There was the rub. All his gold pieces were gone 
already, and he was reduced to a small handful of 
silver. 

I don’t see anything for it but to apply to Mr. 
Ramsden for more,” he said to himself. “ And the 
sooner the better, for the longer I put it off, the worse 
I shall look, and I’ll soon be in such bad order that I’ll 
be ashamed to go anywhere at all. Of course it costs 
me more to pass for a young gentleman than for a poor 
country boy ; but I don’t believe the department will 
begrudge the money if I get the information they 
want.” 

To ask Senor Warfield for Mr. Ramsden’s address 
he thought would* not be advisable, as it might give 
some clew to his business. But addresses are easily 
found in a city where cheap cabs are in vogue. 

Senor Warfield went out again immediately after 
breakfast, and he was no sooner gone than Gil went 
down to the street, hailed the first cab that appeared, 
and stepping in, told the driver : — 

“To the British consul’s.” 

After a few minutes’ drive he was set down in front 
of a large house in one of the best streets of the city, 
with a very heavy brass knocker on the front door. 


268 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


which made such a racket when he struck it he thought 
he must arouse the whole neighborhood. 

“ I should like to see Mr. Ramsden,” he said to the 
young colored man who answered the summons, at the 
same time handing him a card that he had prepared 
beforehand, bearing the name in pencil, “ Sr. Ramon 
Ortiz.” 

The man took him through the tiled hall into such 
a Cuban parlor as Gil had often heard of but had 
never before seen. The floor was paved with small 
square blocks of white and black marble, there were 
no curtains, and two long rows of rocking-chairs of 
bent wood stretched straight down the room from the 
tall mirror between the two front windows, so that their 
occupants must sit facing one another. 

Gil seated himself in one of the chairs to wait, and 
he did not have to wait long. In a few moments Con- 
sul Ramsden appeared, holding the. card in his hand. 
He was a tall, fine-looking gentleman, past the middle 
age, with so kindly an expression in his face that Gil 
took to him at once. 

“ Senor Ortiz ?” he said inquiringly. 

“Yes, sir,” Gil answered, rising and stepping toward 
him, and taking the hand that the consul extended. 

“ Ni firmes carta que no leas, senor, ni hebes agua 
que no veas,” Gil said, in a low tone, using the pass- 
word that Commander McCalla had given him. 

“Ah!” said the consul; and he looked his visitor 


SURPRISING NEWS FROM CONSUL RAMSDEN. 269 

steadily in the eye for a moment, still holding his 
hand. 

“It is an excellent motto, Senor Ortiz,’’ he added, 
“ that we will all do well to follow. Will you step this 
way, senor ? ” 

He led the way out into the hall again, through the 
hall to a courtyard in the rear, with a large fountain 
playing in the centre and beautifully decorated with 
plants and flowers ; across the court to an iron stairway 
leading on the outside to the second story of the rear 
building, up the stairs, and through the door into a 
room, carefully closing the door after him. The room 
seemed to be a sort of literary workshop, being littered 
with books and papers. 

“ Now, Senor Ortiz,” the consul said, when they were 
seated, “ what can I do for you ? But wait ! ” he added ; 
“ do you speak English ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, sir ! ” Gil replied. 

“ Then perhaps we had better carry on our conver- 
sation in English,” the consul said. 

“ Commander McCalla, of the Marblehead!' Gil began, 
“instructed me to apply to you for any assistance I 
might need while in Santiago, sir.” 

“ Did he, indeed ! ” the consul interrupted, smiling. 
“ And you are in need of assistance now ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil replied. “I have only been on the 
island for a day or two, and — ” 

“ Wait a moment ! ” the consul interrupted ; “ do not 


2/0 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


explain your affairs to me until I explain my own situa- 
tion. I am the representative here of a neutral power, 
as you know, and as such it would be highly improper 
for me to act as the agent of your government. I say 
your government, because the password you have given 
me tells me what brings you here. What I have en- 
gaged to do is to give the name and address of the 
American secret agent here to any of your people who 
apply to me for it. Such an agent has been appointed, 
and he will give you whatever assistance you expected 
to get from me. That much I can do with propriety, 
but hardly any more. 

“ Now are you good at remembering names ? ” he 
continued. “ It is not well to put anything upon paper, 
and you must impress this upon your memory. The 
man you want is Senor Josd Warfield, of the firm of 
Almirez & Warfield, in the Calle Cristina.” 

Gil sprang up from his chair. 

“Warfield, did I understand you, sir ” he gasped; 
“Senor Jose Warfield, of Almirez & Warfield.? Is /le 
the secret agent of the United States in Santiago.?” 

“ He certainly is,” the consul answered ; “ why not .? ” 

“Why, that is the gentleman I am staying with!” 
Gil exclaimed. 

“Very likely,” the consul replied, with a smile. 
“Then you are in good hands, for Senor Warfield is 
a man of wonderful shrewdness and great resources.” 

“Then I need not take your time any further. 


SURPRISING NEWS FROM CONSUL RAMSDEN. 2/1 

Mr. Ramsden,” Gil said, making an effort to recover 
his equanimity ; “ and I thank you very much for the 
information. I should like to ask you one question, 
however, before I go.” 

“ A dozen, my boy, if you like,” the consul answered. 

“ Is there any possible way that I can send a letter 
home from here, sir } ” Gil asked. 

Mr. Ramsden deliberated a moment before answering. 

“ It is possible for me to send a letter for you,” he 
said; “but whether it is safe for you to send one de- 
pends upon how carefully you can write it. If you 
can write a short letter so guardedly that all the 
Spaniards in Cuba might read it without discovering 
anything, it can be done.” 

“ I think I can do that, sir,” Gil asserted. 

“Then have it here by this time to-morrow,” the 
consul told him, “and it will go with a packet of de- 
spatches that I have arranged to send by way of St. 
Thomas to-morrow night. But be very cautious with 
it, sign it with a single initial, and do not address the 
envelope for it until you are here in my house. And 
if it comes to the worst with you, my boy (as it may 
at any moment in this business), I will help you at all 
hazards, for I am a friend of America and the Ameri- 
cans. But be cautious, lad, be cautious ! ” 

Gil went away feeling sure that he had one friend, 
at any rate, in Santiago. But he felt a little humil- 
iated to think that he had been staying with the 


272 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


American agent without discovering it. And did Senor 
Warfield suspect him, he wondered, and take him in 
for that reason ? If so, his disguise must be so poor 
that he was in danger every moment. 

It was useless, he knew, to return to the warehouse 
at that hour, for Senor Warfield would be out; so he 
visited several more points of importance, acquired 
more information, and kept watch upon the harbor 
for the fleet that still did not come. When he went 
back before six o’clock, Rafael was getting the senor’s 
clothes ready to dress him for dinner, and the host 
was stretched upon his bed, reading a newspaper. 

After a little commonplace conversation, Gil asked 
leave to send Rafael out to buy him some collar but- 
tons, which was readily granted ; and the boy being 
thus out of the way, he lost no time in making him- 
self known. 

“ Seiior,” he said, stepping up to the side of his 
host’s bed, “ I think we can know each other better. 
Ni firmes carta que no leas, ni hebes agua que no veas. 
I have visited Consul Ramsden this afternoon, senor.” 

“ Sh ! ” Senor Warfield exclaimed, laying a finger 
over his lips; “walls have ears in this country.” And 
he sprang up and shut both doors, adding, “We un- 
derstand each other without more words. I thought 
as much.” 

“That is what I want particularly to ask you about, 
senor,” Gil insisted. “It is of the greatest importance 


SURPRISING NEWS FROM CONSUL RAMSDEN. 

to me. I could not believe that even Cuban hospital- 
ity was a sufficient reason for your bringing an entire 
stranger into your house. Now, tell me frankly, please, 
— am I so poorly disguised that you suspected my 
mission as soon as you saw me ” 

“ I must answer both yes and no to that,” Senor 
Warfield replied. “There was nothing about your ap- 
pearance or manner to arouse my suspicion in the 
least. It was simply your being a stranger that made 
me suspicious. There are so few strangers here just 
now, except in uniform; people are getting out of the 
city, not coming into it. 

“ I reasoned in this way,” he continued. “ Here is 
a young stranger in Santiago. What brings him here } 
Not pleasure, for there is no pleasure in the city at 
present; not business, for there is no business. He 
is just the right age and cut to be in some govern- 
ment service. If he is in the service of the right 
government, I want him where I can look after him ; 
if in the service of any other, I must have him where 
I can keep my eye upon him. 

“ That is the whole secret of it. And now that we 
know each other, Senor Ortiz,” he went on, “ you know 
where to come when you are in need of anything — 
for you are certain to need something sooner or later.” 

“I need something already, senor,” Gil answered. 
“ I am running out of money, and need some to buy 
clothes.” 

T 




274 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Senor Warfield burst into a laugh at the mention of 
clothes. 

“You do not know what a sharp eye I have been 
keeping upon your clothes ! ” he said ; “ just like a cat 
watching a mouse. When you came last night, every- 
thing you had on was new, fresh out of the shops. 
You must soon have more, and if you brought trunks 
or satchels here, I could judge from them about where 
you came from. If you had no baggage, then I was 
free to conclude that you came from — ” 

“ From where, sir ? ” Gil asked, smiling, as his host 
paused. 

“ From the ships outside ! ” Senor Warfield whis- 
pered, with his mouth close to Gil’s ear. “ Sh ! here is 
Rafael. Yes, your draft upon us is just as good as if 
our business was still in progress.” (This was for the 
benefit of Rafael, who had entered the room.) “ And 
the clothes you speak of might as well be bought 
before dinner, for there is plenty of time. It is one of 
the beauties of war that it turns your hours inside out. 
Whether we dine at seven or at eleven, what matter "i ” 
Before they set out in a cab for the tailor’s, Senor 
Warfield found opportunity to put a hundred dollars in 
Spanish gold into Gil’s hand, saying : — 

“ What few things we need bring home with us for 
this evening, you can pay for out of that. But your 
main outfit had better be made to order, and they will 
of course send a bill. You can give me vouchers for 


SURPRISING NEWS FROM CONSUL RAMSDEN. 275 

whatever I supply you with, so that I can account 
for it.” 

I 

“Oh, seflor,” Gil protested, “I shall not need nearly 
as much as this. I don’t think they would want me to 
spend so much money for clothes.” 

“Nonsense, lad!” Senor Warfield laughed. “Your 
firm will want you to be dressed appropriately for 
whatever business you have in hand, like any other 
good firm. You cannot do your sort of work without 
being well clad. Besides, you know I am in a measure 
your superior officer just now, and you must follow my 
instructions. I will take all the responsibility for your 
having a proper outfit ; leave it all to me.” 

It was Senor Warfield’s own tailor that they went to 
— a much more elegant and more expensive establish- 
ment than any that Gil had visited, with a great stock 
of everything for men’s wear. And when, after Gil 
had selected the few things that he needed for imme- 
diate use, the senor had his measure taken and began 
ordering shirts for him by the dozen, and “wash” 
trousers and vests by the half dozen, and the finest of 
underwear, and other things in proportion, he offered 
more objections ; but they were of no avail. 

“ It is no more than any young gentleman in the city 
must have,” the senor insisted. “ Indeed, it is hardly 
enough, for we use clothes very fast in this warm climate. 
You must be well fitted out, at any rate. ‘The best 
pay for the best work,’ is one of my business mottoes.” 


2/6 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“ But when I go away } ” Gil still objected. 

“Then they can be sent after you,” Senor Warfield 
laughed. “ I want to introduce you into some good 
society in Santiago, and you cannot go barefoot.” 

In the restaurant that evening, where he felt more 
comfortable in a clean shirt, Gil overheard an important 
conversation between two Spanish officers who sat near 
by, while his host busied himself with a newspaper, 
apparently hearing nothing. But Senor Warfield was 
not asleep. 


CHAPTER XX. 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 

N ever before had Gil had so much pleasure in 
writing home. So many things had been hap- 
pening to him. Everything about him was so new and 
strange, the people were so different, the buildings, 
the way of living, that it seemed to him as if he were 
in a new world, far removed from everything that had 
been dear and familiar to him before. 

But the few unsatisfactory lines he could send home 
brought all the old loved surroundings back to him with 
great force. He was back in the old sitting room, he 
was up in the attic poring over the contents of the 
black trunk, he was in Jason’s store, down at the swim- 
ming hole with the boys — just for five minutes while 
he was writing. Then Senor Warfield came in and 
brought him back to Cuba and the strange and danger- 
ous life he was leading. 

With all its dangers, the very luxury of it made him 
feel in spite of himself as if he were wasting time. 
Day after day passed, and still there were no signs of 
the fleet. He had studied the harbor so well, and charts 

277 


2/8 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

of the harbor, that he knew that if it did come, his 
information would be invaluable to the government. 
And if the Spaniards had known how much he knew 
about their forts and their troops and equipments, they 
would never have let him escape from Santiago alive. 
Still it seemed hardly right for him to be living in this 
way while his comrades were enduring so many hard- 
ships for their country. 

“But after all,” he often said to himself, “these are 
my orders, and I must obey them. Commander 
McCalla’s instructions were positive that I should stay 
here till the fleet arrived, or till I received further orders.” 

He had fallen, without any effort on his own part, 
into one of the greatest luxuries of life in the tropics. 
Several mornings after his first visit to Consul Ramsden, 
he was awakened by Rafael making frequent visits to his 
room, bearing each time an armful of bundles. 

“What is all this, Rafael.^ ” he asked, as he saw the 
dressing-case, the chairs, even the window-sills, loaded 
with parcels. 

“The things come from the tailors, sefior,” Rafael 
replied ; and from that moment Gil enjoyed what in a 
hot climate is more to be desired than fine houses, fine 
horses, or even good food — a plunge into cool water 
and a fresh outfit of clothes from head to foot upon 
awaking, and the same before dinner. We in the 
cooler north can hardly appreciate the luxury of the 
bathing-pool and plenty of fresh linens in the tropics. 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 279 

During one of their delightful breakfasts on the ve- 
randa Gil told Senor Warfield that he had heard much 
about the Standish plantation and expressed a desire to 
see the place now that he was so near it. 

“ Why, there is no reason why you should not see it,” 
his host instantly replied. “ I know the place well ; 
indeed, it has been in my hands for sale more than once 
since the Spaniards took possession of it. I knew the 
American named Standish who bought it, and did busi- 
ness with him. I have never told you, I think, that I 
am almost an American myself, as both my parents 
were Americans, though I was born in Cuba.” 

At this Gil was strongly tempted to tell his host that 
he was the nephew of that Standish whom he had 
known ; but as that might involve telling much more, 
he kept silence. 

“ We can drive out there any morning, by making an 
early start,” Senor Warfield continued. ‘‘ I can get the 
necessary passes without difficulty to take us both ways 
past the lines. But if we go, it had better be soon, for 
we are on the verge of the rainy season, and the rains 
may begin at any time. How would you like to go out 
to-morrow ? ” 

Gil deliberated a moment before answering. Would 
it be too great a risk for him to run .? There was little 
danger of his seeing the Spanish lady, and still less of 
her recognizing him in his new disguise. 

“ I should be delighted to go, senor,” he answered. 


28 o 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“if nothing happens to prevent. You know my chief 
business here, without my telling you. If that fleet 
should arrive, of course it would change all my 
plans.” 

“ Oh, of course,” Senor Warfield agreed. “ But we 
need not be away more than three or four hours. I 
will get the passes this afternoon.” 

To tell the truth they were not the first passes the 
senor had provided Gil with. Some of his visits to 
the fortifications might have been accounted for in the 
same way. At any rate, he got these without trouble, 
and Rafael gave them some eggs and fresh fish with 
their early coffee, and before seven o’clock in the morn- 
ing they were well on their way. 

Gil could not help looking with great interest at the 
places he had passed a few days before under such dif- 
ferent circumstances. There was the long, rough street 
out beyond the barracks ; the field through which he 
had run to avoid El Caney ; and in the distance he 
soon recognized the country he had traversed, footsore 
and weary, after his escape from the Spanish soldiers. 
None of these things had been confided to Senor War- 
field, so Gil had to enjoy the sights in silence; what- 
ever Gil needed he was to ask for, it had been agreed ; 
but the senor considered it safer for them not to know 
too much of each other’s affairs. 

“You have only your neck at stake — a very trifling 
matter,” he once said to Gil. “ I have not only my 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 


281 


neck, but my business and property also, and my part- 
ner’s. I cannot afford to make any mistakes.” 

So Gil was not as much surprised as he might have 
been, when, as the road wound around a hill, the senor 
pointed to the familiar tower in the distance, saying : — 

“There is our destination. That is La Sierra plan- 
tation house.” 

“Ah! ” said Gil, very coolly; “that’s the place, is it? 
It seems to be well situated, on a hilltop.” 

“You will think so when you reach it!” the senor 
exclaimed. “ It has one of the finest views in Cuba. 
On a perfectly clear day you can see the mountains of 
Jamaica from the top of that tower. Perhaps we can 
to-day.” 

It was still a long way off ; but in the early morning, 
and in a covered carriage, Gil found travelling much 
more pleasant than he had found it before. They 
passed some army wagons going in toward Santiago, 
returning, as the senor suggested, from Caimanera; 
and some people on foot, and a small body of troops 
whom they overtook but who paid no attention to 
them ; and they were within a mile of the Standish 
place when they saw coming toward them a little caval- 
cade composed of two mounted men in advance, a 
volante containing probably a passenger whom they 
could not yet see, a mounted man on each side of it, 
and two more mounted men bringing up the rear. The 
volante, they soon saw, was drawn by two horses, one 


282 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


in front of the other, with a liveried driver on the lead- 
ing horse. 

“ That looks like old times ! ” Senor Warfield ex- 
claimed. “ We have not seen much volante riding for 
the last few years. The Cubans do not make such a 
display at present, even those who have horses or 
money left. This must be some person who can com- 
mand the protection of the troops, and therefore a 
Spaniard. Possibly it may be some one I know, for 
my acquaintance is very large. I manage by keep- 
ing quiet to be on reasonably good terms with both 
parties.” 

The leather top of the volante was so broad a shelter 
from sun and rain, and its interior so dark, that even 
when it was close to them they could not make out 
more than that its occupant was a lady. But while 
they could not see the}^' could hear, and they heard the 
lady give some order to the driver ; and when the 
vehicles were exactly opposite, the volante stopped, and 
the driver of the carriage puiled up his horses. 

“Why, Senor Warfield ! ” the lady exclaimed, leaning 
so far forward that Gil could see that she wore a lace 
mantilla over her head instead of a bonnet, and that 
her face was wonderfully ornamented with powder. 
“ What a piece of good fortune to meet you ! You 
have saved me a journey to Santiago. Do you know, I 
was actually going to drive into that dreadful place, to 
give some information to the police.” 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 283 

Something in the tone of the voice instantly attracted 
Gil’s attention. He did not recognize the face, but he 
certainly had heard that voice before. 

“The police!” Senor Warfield repeated, as he sprang 
out of the carriage and went up to the front of the 
volante. “ I am delighted, I am sure, if I can relieve 
the Senora Avila from so unpleasant a duty.” 

The Senora Avila ! Gil was face to face with the 
Spanish lady who had entertained and betrayed him, 
though he had not recognized her face. Instinctively 
he drew further back into the shade of the carriage ; but 
it would only make matters worse to try to hide, so he 
resumed his former position. 

“Unpleasant indeed!” the lady continued. “And 
all made necessary by these sleepy soldiers of ours. 
Oh, my husband is as bad as the rest of them ! ” she 
exclaimed, as if in answer to Senor Warfield’s inquiring 
smile. “ Everything is manana with them. It’s to- 
morrow, to-morrow, to-morrow. I do believe this war 
will not be ended till we ladies take matters into our 
own hands. Do you know, senor, I am on the track 
of a spy ; and the troops are so sluggish that I am 
driven to applying to the police.” 

“ A spy ! ” Senor Warfield again repeated. “ Senora 
Avila tracking a spy ! ” 

“ Alas, yes ! ” the lady went on. “ And perhaps you 
hive seen him yourself, senor, for I am sure he has 
gone to Santiago. He was a young fellow, hardly 


284 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

more than a boy ; not such a bad-looking young fellow, 
but without shoes, and with a very ragged hat and 
soiled, poor clothes. About eighteen or twenty, I 
should take him to be. He stopped at my house for 
water, and after a little conversation with him I was so 
sure he was neither Cuban nor Spaniard that I actually 
made him stay and breakfast with me while I sent to 
the outpost for a guard. And they took him into cus- 
tody, but the careless fellows let him escape, and now 
they have not energy enough to have him caught. 
You know what harm a spy might do just at this time. 
Have you noticed such a boy in the city, senor 

“I can — hardly — say that I have, senora,” Senor 
Warfield answered slowly, as if pausing to think. 
“You know we have many barefoot boys in Santiago 
just now, and many with torn hats and poor clothes. 
But nothing has directed my attention to such a boy or 
man. Have you seen any one answering such a de- 
scription, Ortiz ? Oh, excuse me. Step out, Ortiz, and 
let me have the pleasure of presenting you.” 

This was worse than Gil had anticipated. He must 
not only be seen by this lady, but must get out and talk 
with her. But there was absolutely no help for it, for 
to make any excuse would only attract attention to 
himself. 

“ Allow me to present my friend Sefior Ortiz, Senora 
Avila,” Warfield said, as Gil stepped up to the volante. 
“ Have you seen such a young fellow in Santiago, 
senor ? ” 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 


285 


It was a very critical moment. The lady might 
recognize his voice, though his changed clothes made 
him feel confident in his appearance. 

“ I’ve an idea,” he said, as he raised his hat and 
bowed, “that I saw very much such a fellow in El 
Caney the other day. Barefoot, you say, and with a 
torn straw hat.? Rather an intelligent young fellow, 
senora, with a good face, and better bred than his 
clothes seemed to imply .? Quite a bright sort of young 
man .? ” 

It was sheer desperation that induced Gil to speak so 
freely and even to joke about his own appearance. He 
could not avoid speaking to the lady, so he concluded 
that his only chance was to put on a bold front and 
show a little of the interest that he felt in the case. 

“Yes, quite an intelligent young person,” Senora 
Avila answered. “ But very poor in appearance, and I 
should say not at all good-looking. And you saw such 
a person in El Caney .? He might well be there, if he 
had no means of passing the guard. Then I shall 
depend upon you, Senor Warfield, to inform the police 
of Santiago. He will reach there eventually, without 
doubt. And you will save me a very unpleasant jour- 
ney, sefior, for instead of going on to the city I shall 
drive out to my husband’s headquarters. Good morn- 
ing, gentlemen.” 

Assuring her that her suspicions should be made 
known in the proper quarter, Gil and his host reentered 


286 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


their carriage and drove on, and were soon within the 
boundaries of the Standish plantation. As they neared 
the building, the drive passed between two rows of 
beautiful palm trees, among the handsomest that Gil 
had seen in Cuba ; and there were evidences on all 
sides of the former grandeur of the place. 

“ It must have been a fine place, in its better days,” 
Gil suggested. 

“ A fine place indeed,” Senor Warfield assented ; 
“ and a very valuable place, too — as it may be again,” 
he added, ‘‘when the war comes to an end. I have 
seen this plantation produce so much money that the 
owners hardly knew what to do with it.” 

As no one appeared in answer to their calls, they 
opened a handsome iron gate that guarded the arched 
entrance to the large inner court, and went in, and 
proceeded directly, at Senor Warfield’s suggestion, up 
a stone stairway to the top of the tower. 

Gil had often said to himself that when he first saw 
the Standish place he should certainly be disappointed, 
because his expectations were too large. But the 
moment he set foot in the courtyard he saw that it 
was a much larger and grander place than he had 
ever imagined. Outside it was as plain as possible ; 
but inside it bore evidences of having been such a 
place as a millionnaire planter might build for him- 
self ; and with the exception of the one corner that 
had fallen, it was in better repair than he had hoped. 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 287 

It was not till they were at the top of the tower, 
leaning against the battlements, looking at the wonder- 
ful view, that Gil made any reference to the meeting 
with Senora Avila. 

“You are going to speak to the police,” he asked, 
“ about the boy that lady is so anxious to have 
captured ? ” 

“ That depends,” the senor answered, with a smile. 
“ Why ? Do you know anything about him } ” 

“I think I have seen him,” Gil replied; “but the 
police never can find him, for he has disappeared.” 

“ Disappeared ! ” the senor echoed ; “ and did you 
have anything to do with his disappearance ? ” 

“ A great deal ! ” Gil laughed. “ When I put on 
these good clothes and threw away the torn straw hat, 
that handsome, intelligeirt boy disappeared forever.” 

“ Oh, you’re a sly one ! ” Senor Warfield exclaimed, 
laughing too. “And you talked to her about him as 
coolly as if you would be glad to see him captured. 
So you had your little adventures in Cuba before you 
met me, did you ? No 1 ” (holding up his hand for 
silence as Gil began to interrupt him) “don’t tell me 
anything about it. It’s better that I should not know. 
But after what you tell me, I shall inform the police 
by all means. As she did not recognize you, cer- 
tainly they cannot ; and to fail to do it might arouse 
her suspicion. Well ! well ! I should like to have 
seen you as a ragged barefoot boy, Senor Ortiz. 


288 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ But that danger is past,” he continued, turning 
suddenly about, “so we need not trouble ourselves 
about it. I want you to look at this incomparable 
view. There is not a better on the whole island, 
unless it may be from some mountain-top. Do you 
see that dark speck far off in the southwest ? That 
is Jamaica. And look at the beautiful blue water! 
Every steamer rounding the cape for Santiago or 
Cienfuegos passes within plain sight from here. I 
should want no better lot in life than to live in such 
a place as this, if we were at peace.” 

“Nor I ! ” said Gil, very earnestly. “ How happy 
a man’s family could be in such a place, with this 
beautiful view constantly before them.” 

He let his imagination run loose for a few minutes, 
and saw his mother presiding over the house, and 
rocking-chairs on the broad stone veranda overlook- 
ing the sea, and Rose and her mother busying them- 
selves among the flowers in the court. 

But it all seemed so far off I Or it might never be, 
for he realized that he still had many dangers to 
encounter. As they roamed about the deserted and 
empty house, he could not help making a rough cal- 
culation of what it would cost to make the place 
fairly habitable. Ah, that would take mahy a month’s 
pay as cadet engineer on the St. Louis. 

What had once been the handsome ground's stretched 
down in terraces to the sea, and they went down the 


GIL VISITS HIS PLANTATION. 


289 


weed-grown walks and uneven steps to the beach. 
There, tied to a little wharf roughly made of boards, 
was a fisherman’s boat, with both oars and sail lying 
in the bottom ; and Gil examined the boat with great 
care. 

Ortiz,” said Senor Warfield, while Gil was at 
this, *‘you may tell me one thing about your affairs. 
I have noticed several times within a few days that 
you were examining boats on the beach. Have you 
any information that is likely to take you away from 
me soon ? ” 

“Ah, senor,” Gil laughed, “I know just where to 
lay my hand on a dozen of them at any moment. 
You would not have me so negligent as to be without 
means of escape! No, I have no information; and 
I do not expect to leave you until — until — ” 

“Till there are more ships in the harbor, perhaps ? ” 
the senor suggested. 

“ Exactly,” said Gil. “ There’s no telling when I 
may go, but when I do go, I shall be in a hurry.” 


u 


CHAPTER XXL 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 

“ [T ARK, Rafael ! What can the bells be ringing 

rl for.?” 

Oh, Senor Ortiz, how can I say ? they are always 
ringing. It is the day of one of the blessed saints, 
no doubt.” 

But Gil was not satisfied with this explanation. He 
was accustomed to hearing the church bells ring 
frequently, but not at that hour; for it was nearly 
eight o’clock in the morning, and much too late for 
the early church services. Besides, they were ring- 
ing rapidly, joyously, not as if summoning the people 
to mass. 

Many days had passed since Gil’s visit to the plan- 
tation ; so many that the date was the 20th of May. 
Senor Warfield had already had his early coffee, and 
dressed and gone out, and Gil was preparing for his 
day’s work, putting on the fresh clothes that Rafael 
always had ready for him. 

“ No,” he said, stepping to one of the windows and 
looking down ; “ there is some excitement in the city, 

290 


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THERE WAS CERVERA’S FLEET 





A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 29 1 

surely. The streets are full, and everybody hurrying 
toward the wharves. Run out, Rafael, and let me 
know quickly what it is all about.” 

Rafael hurried down, and Gil hastily drew on the 
rest of his clothes. When he was fully dressed, he 
stood a moment by the open window to listen to the 
babel of voices, but could catch nothing to give him a 
clew. While he stood there the boy returned, breath- 
less and excited. 

“ Oh, great news, senor ! ” he cried. “ The Span- 
ish fleet has passed the blockade, and is coming up 
the harbor ! Hark ! ” 

Just for a moment Gil stopped to listen, — long 
enough to hear the “ boom ! boom ! ” of heavy guns 
from Morro Castle in honor of the fleet’s safe arrival. 
Then he sprang for the iron stairway, and dashed 
up to the roof three steps at a time. 

There was Cervera’s fleet, beyond a doubt, slowly 
and majestically entering the bay, with flags flying and 
bands playing, as if it had won a great victory, and 
cheers and bells and cannon on shore to bid it wel- 
come. 

For an instant Gil’s heart stood still. Such re- 
joicing could hardly mean anything but a great tri- 
umph. Was it possible that these ships could have 
met the American fleet and sunk it.^ No, that could 
never be ; but, otherwise, how did they get into the 
harbor.^ Surely the Marblehead and the St. Louis 


292 


CADET STANDTSH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


would not let them pass without a single shot ; but 
if there had been cannonading in the night, he must 
have heard it. 

He could hardly wait till the ships drew close 
enough for him to see whether they bore signs of 
battle ; but unconsciously he drew up his waist strap 
one hole tighter, for he knew that there was a day 
of hard and dangerous work before him. Before dark 
he must be on board the St. Loiiis, he thought, little 
dreaming that when he next saw the St. Louis, she 
would be in New York bay. And while he waited, 
Senor Warfield sprang up the stairs. 

“ Ha ! your friends have arrived, senor ! ” he ex- 
claimed. 

“Tell me, Senor Warfield” — Gil was too much in- 
terested in the fate of his own fleet to stand on cere- 
mony — “ tell me, has there been an engagement } 
Or what does all this rejoicing mean } ” 

“ Engagement ! no ! ” Senor Warfield answered. 
“They sneaked in without firing a shot. And why 
not } There was nothing outside to stop them. There 
is no American ship in sight ; they have all been 
withdrawn; and this rejoicing is only because the 
Spaniards have got safely into the harbor.” 

That was a relief, to hear that the American fleet 
was safe. But how could Gil believe that the ships 
had all been withdrawn from outside Then where 
was the St. Loins f Oh, it was impossible. They 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 


293 


might have gone for a few hours to storm some other 
point, but they could not have been withdrawn. 

“These four big ones,” Sehor Warfield continued, 
“are the Cristobal Colon, the Admiral Oquendo, the 
Maria Teresa, and the Vizcaya. The small destroyers 
I do not know the names of. I just ran in to tell you 
the news, and must be off again. You will stay here, 
I suppose } ” 

“For the present,” Gil answered, “till I see what 
positions they take. And I had better bid you good- 
by, Senor Warfield. My orders are positive to return 
the minute these ships arrive, and I may go at any 
time, after I see them anchored. I shall be under the 
fire of the forts in returning to my ship, and we may 
never meet again ; but till my last hour I shall not for- 
get the kindness you have shown me.” 

“ Tush ! ” the Senor exclaimed. “ We will meet again 
in an hour, for I shall run in to tell you what I hear, 
and it will take them half the morning to come to 
anchor. Adios ! ” 

Gil would have given a good deal for the privilege of 
making a diagram on paper of the positions of the 
ships, but that was against orders ; he must carry it all 
in his memory. And to avoid attracting attention to 
himself, he stretched out at full length on the floor of 
the balcony, and watched. 

The whole harbor was literally at his feet, and every 
ship in plain sight ; the only difficulty was that he 


294 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


could not tell them apart — which was the Vizcaya^ 
which the Co/on, and so on. That was an important 
matter, for in case of a naval attack the officers must 
know from what quarter to expect the heaviest fire, 
and be prepared for it. It was not enough to say, 
“ Here lies one ship, here another ; ” he must be able 
to make a chart when he returned, and announce, 
“ Here is the Oqicerido, here the Teresa'" 

In the course of an hour the ships had all either 
anchored or tied up to buoys in the harbor, but Senor 
Warfield had not returned. The city was wild with 
joy. Bells were still ringing, cannon firing, and the 
whole population seemed to be gathered on the wharves. 
In that great crowd there must be many people who 
could tell the ships apart, and Gil determined to go 
down and mingle with them to get his information. 

He had only a few steps to go to reach the Embar- 
cadero, or public landing place ; but that was a solid 
mass of excited people, and he turned southward toward 
the Nautical Club, where the broader space was more 
open. Here the people were divided into little groups, 
each group having its spokesman who dilated upon the 
wonderful feat of the Spanish fleet in actually cross- 
ing the broad ocean without being either captured or 
sunk. 

Approaching one of these groups to listen, he asked 
a question here, a question there, and had learned the 
names of all but two of the ships, when he turned to a 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 295 

soldier on the outskirts of the group, and pointing out 
over the harbor, asked : — 

“What is that second ship, the one lying just beyond 
the storeship } ” 

“What do you want to knpw for.?” the soldier re- 
torted, seizing him roughly by the shoulder. “You are 
asking a great many questions here ; you must be very 
much interested. I think you will go with me to the 
guard-house.” 

It was so sudden and so unexpected that Gil was 
taken by surprise ; but it did not take him long to 
recover himself. A crowd instantly gathered around 
them, and he heard ugly mutterings of : — 

“ A spy ! A spy ! ” 

He knew that in that excited crowd of highly excit- 
able people, explanations or arguments would be of no 
avail ; if he was to escape, it must be by force and daring. 

If he was to escape ! There was no room for any 
ifs or ands about it; he must escape, for his informa- 
tion was worth as much to the government as any 
battleship afloat. 

Almost at the first instant he tried to wrench himself 
loose, but could not do it; the soldier had too firm a 
hold. 

With a motion as if to strike the soldier with his 
free hand, he suddenly jerked his right arm out of the 
coat, then the other, and made a dash through the 
excited crowd. 


296 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“ Stop him ! stop him ! ” the soldier cried, springing 
after him ; “ a spy ! a spy ! ” 

Coatless, and now hatless, for he lost his hat in the 
scuffle, Gil made a dash for life and liberty up the 
Calle Cristina, followed by an ever increasing mob 
shouting : — 

A spy ! A Yankee spy ! ” 

He had a clear lead of ten feet from the foremost of 
them, and he was a good runner. They could not 
catch him, he knew, if the crowd in front did not 
stop him. 

Never before had he felt so thankful for his hundred 
and sixty pounds of good solid flesh and bone. The 
lean little Cubans and Spaniards were like straws in 
front of him. One man who turned upon him he sent 
reeling with a blow from his fist; another, who tried 
to block his way, he dived into head first and left 
lying a helpless mass on the stones. Through a group 
here, past a crowd there, his hair dishevelled, his shirt 
torn, he made his run for life or death toward the 
small side door of the Almirez & Warfield warehouse. 

It was injudicious to go there ; he felt that, but it 
seemed his only chance. Within a dozen paces of the 
door he thrust a hand into his pocket and drew out his 
key. 

They were close behind him now, for every encounter 
in the crowd had delayed him a little. One man in a 
broad sombrero was almost close enough to touch him ; 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 297 

and the cries grew louder every moment, “Stop the 
Yankee spy ! ’’ 

He was in front of the door now, and another second 
would give him at least a temporary shelter. But that 
man so close behind ! Suddenly Gil turned, and with 
the heavy key between his fingers dealt the man a 
blow that felled him like an ox. 

The next two stumbled over this fallen man, and be- 
fore the main body of pursuers came up he was inside, 
and the solid door locked, and the two wooden bars 
put up. 

He was safe now for two or three minutes ; but not 
more than that, for such a mob on such an occasion, he 
knew, would not stop at breaking down the doors or 
even battering down the walls to catch him. Already 
they were pounding and kicking at the door he had 
entered by. 

He dashed through the corridor and up the stairs 
toward his room, fully conscious that his life hung by 
a thread. But still he felt wonderfully cool. His 
charge through the crowd had given him time to collect 
himself and lay his plans. He knew that the infuriated 
mob would tear him to pieces if they caught him ; but 
through it all it was his information, more than his life, 
that he was determined to save if he could. 

Senor Warfield had returned, and having heard the 
commotion below he stood at the head of the stairs 
listening. 


298 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

I am followed by a mob,” Gil said hastily, but quite 
coolly, as he went into his room and put on a new coat 
and hat. “ They are battering at the doors, and they 
will be in the building in one minute.” 

“ Will they ? ” said Senor Warfield, quite as coolly as 
Gil, as he reached for his hip pocket and took out a 
large shining revolver. “Then the first five or six of 
them are dead men.” 

“ No, do not oppose them,” Gil said, in a manner that 
was more a command than a request. “ Do not involve 
yourself in this thing. Go down and open the doors 
for them. They will not find me here. Adios, sefior, 
if we do not meet again.” 

With the last words Gil’s foot was upon the first of 
the iron steps leading to the roof, just as a tremendous 
crash below told him that the door had been battered 
down. 

In two or three bounds he was on the roof balcony, 
only to find fresh trouble awaiting hirr^. 

Four men in the crowd, impatient at the strong resist- 
ance of the heavy doors, had climbed to the roof of 
the warehouse with the aid of the window sills and 
water-spout, and were running toward the higher part 
where Gil stood. 

The warehouse was one story high, and roofed with 
corrugated iron. The living part where Gil was, was 
two stories high, and tiled. So he was still a story 
above his pursuers. A glance showed him that they 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 299 

were all flourishing knives, which was conclusive evi- 
dence that they had no firearms. 

With a bound he sprang over the balcony rail to the 
tiled part of the roof, which was nearly flat, and ran 
toward the edge which the men were approaching at 
a full run. 

At sight of him they set up a shout of rage and tri- 
umph. They had found their prey, and there was no 
possible way for him to escape. 

But in a second they changed their minds about 
that, when Gil whipped out his revolver and took as 
deliberate aim as if he had been shooting at a squirrel. 
There was no hesitation about him now. It was his 
life or theirs, and they must take their chances. 

Crack, crack! four times, in such quick succession, 
so sharp and clear, that it sounded almost like a single 
shot. 

Three of the men fell, and the fourth, with another 
cry, turned and ran back. 

Gil ran rapidly along the edge of the roof to the side 
furthest from the water, and seizing the water-spout 
swung himself lightly down to the roof below. 

But he could not wait to see whether the fourth man 
followed. In . an instant he was at the edge of the 
warehouse roof. It was further to the ground than the 
other jump had been, and a broken leg or even a 
sprained ankle meant sure death. Seizing the water- 
pipe with one hand and the ends of the tiles with the 


300 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


other, he stretched out his full length and let hijnself 
drop to the ground. 

That back street was almost deserted. At most there 
were a half-dozen men and boys in it, for the great 
attractions were on the water side and at the front of 
the building with the crowd that was storming the great 
doors. And on the opposite side of the street, at the 
corner, stood an open cab, just as he anticipated — 
for in his leisure moments he had laid all his plans for 
even such an escape as this. 

And more than that, there was a cabman, who had 
stepped out of his vehicle and was standing in the 
shade, leaning against the adjacent house, with his 
hands in his pockets. A big strong black horse, and 
a big stout cabman — those things Gil had noticed 
many times before. 

In three bounds Gil was across the street and in the 
cab, and the reins were in one hand and the whip in 
the other, and he was off like the wind before cabby 
fairly got his hands out of his pockets. 

He turned like a flash into the Calle de la Marina, 
■5: which led inland up the hill, lashing the horse at every 
step, with cabby following, shouting, fifty yards behind, 
and a crowd of men and boys bringing up the rear. 

But that fat cabby had no chance running up a hill 
against his own strong and fleet black horse. The 
crowd behind soon overtook and passed him, shouting 

Stop thief ! stop thief ! ” for they were ignorant of 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 


301 


the spy incident ; and Gil for his own protection took 
up the cry himself, for the benefit of the wondering 
crowd in the street, and shouted “ Stop thief ! ” as 
loudly as any of them, pointing ahead as if he were in 
hot pursuit of a criminal. 

By the time he had gone five short blocks, with the 
horse running at the very top of his speed, and the 
crowd falling further behind every minute, he turned 
short to the right, into the Calle Alta de San Juan, and 
had no sooner turned the corner than he pulled the 
horse down into a fast trot. This not only attracted 
less attention in the street, but gave him a chance also 
to replace the exploded cartridges in his revolver. 

No one who saw this well-dressed young man driving 
quietly but swiftly through the Calle de San Juan 
would have suspected for a moment how utterly desper- 
ate he was. No policeman, no soldier, no citizen or 
crowd of citizens could have interfered with his prog- 
ress without a fight. He had made up his mind, from 
the first moment, that he should not be taken alive. 

After the first turn his course zigzagged like a flight v 
of stairs. From the Calle San Juan he turned to the^ 
left into the Calle Alta de San Basilio, then to the right 
into the Calle Alta del Calvario, and so on and on, 
always to the east and south, turning here, turning 
there, till his devious course brought him to the large 
open space in front of the Hospital Civil, or City Hos- 
pital. 


302 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


By these many turns he threw his pursuers com- 
pletely off the track. They saw him turn into a certain 
street, but when they reached that street he was not 
there, and they had no clew to follow. 

A man who had been less conscientious about his 
work in Santiago might easily have tangled himself up 
among those narrow streets. But Gil not only knew 
what he was doing, but knew exactly where he was 
going. He even knew exactly where the little boat lay 
that was to carry him out to his ship. He might have 
gone on two blocks further with the carriage and 
turned toward the water into the Camino Laguna; 
but he knew that the Fort Saint Ursula was at the 
entrance to that road, and there he should be stopped. 
So he drove up in front of the Civil Hospital, as if he 
intended to make a visit there, and called to a little 
barefoot boy on the sidewalk : — 

“ Here, my boy ! hold this horse a minute, will 
you ? ” 

The boy took the horse by the bridle ; and perhaps 
he is standing there holding him yet, for Gil has not 
seen him since. He walked rapidly around the hos- 
pital and turned into the Camino Azanazana, and fol- 
lowed that for a quarter of a mile or more, till he was 
well past the little fort that he knew lay by the side of 
the Laguna road, to the south of the St. Ursula Fort. 
Then he cut across among the trees and bushes to the 
Laguna road, which had been his objective point from 


A DARING ESCAPE FROM SANTIAGO. 


303 


the start ; and kept on and on, along the dusty, hot 
road, till he reached the brow of the steep declivity 
that fell off rapidly to the sea. 

There was not a ship in sight! No St. Louis ^ no 
Marblehead^ no gunboat. The sea was as beautifully 
blue and still and calm as a clear sky on a summer’s 
day ; but no vessel of any kind made a spot upon its 
glassy surface. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


ON BOARD THE ST. PAUL, 


HAT deserted bit of water gave the young scout 



1 a greater start than even the sudden attack upon 
him on the wharf. Sehor Warfield’s report that the 
ships were gone had not alarmed him, for he could not 
believe that they were permanently withdrawn. They 
had been sent away on some brief duty, perhaps ; but 
it was impossible that they should have deserted that 
important harbor. 

But there was the evidence before his eyes. Not a 
ship on guard, and the long-sought Spanish fleet lying 
at anchor in the harbor. And for himself.? He was 
utterly deserted. He had obeyed orders to the letter, 
had accomplished his object, and had information of 
the greatest importance to the government ; but there 
was no one to give his information to. He could not 
return to Santiago. It seemed to him for a few mo- 
ments as if, like the Roman soldier he had heard of, 
he must just stand there and die at his post. 

When the first surprise was over, however, he soon 
came to a better frame of mind. It was of the highest 


ON BOARD THE ST. PAUL. 


305 


importance to our government, he reasoned, to find that 
Spanish fleet. No matter what false information they 
might have received, the ships must come here even- 
tually, because here was the fleet they sought. Some 
business that he knew nothing about must have taken 
the ships away, but they would surely return. It was 
just possible, he thought, that the St. Louis had seen 
the Spanish fleet going in, and had hurried away to 
give the alarm. 

“ A cup of coffee in the morning makes a good foun- 
dation,” he said to himself, “specially when a big roll 
goes with it. I am good for all day to-day without any 
I trouble ; to-morrow I shall be desperately hungry, but 
that’s nothing ; and the next day I shall begin to grow 
weak ; but I can stick it out. Here is the post of duty, 
and here I shall stay for three days and nights unless 
the ships come.” 

He looked about for a safe shelter, and found it in 
a beautiful avocado tree about fifty feet from where he 
stood, so thick with dark green foliage that he was sure 
he could He safe among its branches. He selected as 
comfortable a place as he could find among the lower 
Hmbs, and lay there hour after hour, with nothing to 
do but watch and think ; and he thought enough to fill 
a whole shelfful of volumes : about his narrow escape, 
and the treacherous Spanish lady, and his life in San- 
tiago, and about the St. Louis and his comrades on her, 
and home and the loved ones there. Where was the 


X 


306 cadet STANDISH of the ST. LOUIS. 

St. Louis f he wondered. And what were they doing 
at home and what would they say if they knew where 
he was at that moment, and what he had been through 
that morning ? 

It is easy to say of a person that he lay for hours 
watching on the limbs of a tree ; but when it comes to 
the actual experience it is very unpleasant work. He 
was growing stiff and tired and a little thirsty, when at 
about four o’clock, as nearly as he could guess the time, 
he saw something that instantly changed the current 
of his thoughts. 

There was a tiny patch of smoke on the horizon, far 
away to the eastward ! It looked hardly bigger than his 
hat, and was very faint, but it was enough to show that 
there was a steamer in that neighborhood. 

There were tremendous possibilities in that whiff of 
smoke. It might mean one of the American ships 
coming back, or it might be an enemy, or it might — 
well, there was no use speculating about it; he could 
only wait and see. 

He was so anxious that it was painful, and he deter- 
mined to shut his eyes till he could slowly count five 
hundred, to see what change there would be in the 
signs. Hurrah ! when he opened his eyes, the patch 
of smoke had lengthened out into a long trail, such as 
a steamer makes when under way. And the smoke 
was coming nearer. 

Another five hundred. Better yet. There was a little 


ON BOARD THE ST. PAUL. 307 

black speck under the smoke now. The steamer was 
approaching. 

In less than an hour she was in plain sight, for she 
came very fast. And how Gil did strain his eyes to 
make her out ! Her coming so fast looked as if she 
might be one of the American flyers ; his own St. 
Louis, perhaps. 

“ It’s the Saint, as sure as I’m alive ! ” he exclaimed. 

She was opposite the harbor entrance by this time, 
about four miles out ; consequently five miles from Gil. 
But should he not know his own ship.? Could he be 
mistaken in her shape, her rigging, the very way she 
cut the water .? 

Her engines stopped, smoke stopped pouring from 
her funnels, and gradually, very gradually, she swung 
around to wind and tide. And as she did so, and pre- 
sented her broadsides, Gil nearly fell out of the tree. 

The ship out in the offing was painted the naval 
lead-color, like the men-of-war. 

The St. Louis still wore her original coat of black. 

Consequently this ship was not the St. Louis, but 
her sister ship, the St. Paul ! 

Here was a new mystery, but Gil did not try to 
fathom it. It was enough for him to know that there 
lay an American ship (didn’t his heart jump when he 
saw the stars and stripes flying at her stern !) and that 
it was his business to get out to her. 

As he slid down from his perch it occurred to him 


308 cadet STANDISH of the ST. LOUIS. 

that possibly he ought to wait till after dark. He must 
row the whole distance under the fire of the forts ; and 
it was not his life, but his information, that he must 
save. But he thought of the exact wording of his 
orders : — 

“ Return immediately to the ship if Cervera’s fleet 
arrives.” Not come that night, or as soon as he could, 
but come immediately. 

“They can’t hit me,” he said to himself, and went 
across the fields to a path that he had travelled before, 
and followed the path down the steep hill to the lagoon, 
and along the edge of the lagoon, past a fisherman’s 
hut, to a log that was staked up to the shore for a 
wharf, where, as he knew, a boat was tied. 

Gil’s last act in Cuba, on that visit, was one of justice 
and honesty. That boat belonged to a poor fisherman, 
who doubtless made a living with her by fishing at night. 
By taking the boat he might deprive the man and his 
family of their livelihood. It was a small, rough boat, 
hardly worth more than four or five dollars ; but he 
took his last ten-dollar gold piece, supplied to him a 
few days before by Senor Warfield, and stuck it edge- 
wise in a crack in the log, in plain sight. 

Taking up the oars he pushed off, and rowed swiftly 
through the lagoon into the little bay beyond ; then into 
the open ocean. 

For a few minutes the cliffs concealed him, but he 
was soon in plain sight of all the forts. Either they 


ON BOARD THE ST. PAUL. 


309 


did not see him for a considerable time, or paid no 
attention to him, for he was half-way out to the ship 
before a single shot was fired. Then the Estrella 
battery, inside the harbor, opened upon him with one 
of her rapid-fire guns, and the Morro itself began to fire. 

“ Try it again, Mr. Don ! ” he laughed, without 
trying to increase his speed ; ‘‘ if you hit me, it will 
be an accident.” 

What he most feared was that the American ship 
might open upon him; for in those days in Cuban 
waters American ships were cautious, and let nothing 
approach them. 

He was within a mile of the ship now, and having 
turned his head a moment to look ahead, he was 
delighted to see that the S^. Paid, instead of firing, 
was lowering a launch to intercept him, when there was 
a tremendous jerk on his right arm, and he almost went 
backward off the seat. 

A ball, probably from the Estrella battery, had struck 
the blade of his oar as he raised it for a stroke, and 
shattered it to splinters. 

“Upon my word, those fellows are improving!” he 
said to himself, very coolly, as he threw away the use- 
less oar and began to paddle with the other. 

The men in the launch evidently had no better 
opinion than Gil of Spanish gunnery, for they advanced 
steadily and swiftly, and were soon within hailing dis- 
tance. 


310 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Ahoy, there, in the boat ! ” an officer in the stern 
shouted. “ Who are you ? ” 

“ A friend ! ” Gil shouted back, still paddling. 

The sun had set by this time, and in the waning 
light objects were a little indistinct. The officer was 
not satisfied with the answer, and ran the launch 
directly across the boat’s bow, effectually stopping her 
progress. 

“ What do you want } ” he asked. 

Gil instantly dropped his oar and stood up.' He was 
in the hands of friends, and their English words sounded 
like music to his ears. 

‘T am Cadet Engineer Standish, of the St. LotiiSy” 
he said, as distinctly as he could, “with important in- 
formation for Captain Sigsbee.” 

This was evidently a surprise to the officer in the 
launch, and he sat down for a moment to confer with 
the officer by his side. They were not to blame for 
being suspicious, for Gil still looked like a young 
Cuban. 

“Are you going back to shore in that boat.?” the 
officer asked at length. 

“ Not if I can help it, sir ! ” Gil laughed. And that 
good American laugh did the business for him, for 
the officer knew that it came from neither Cuban nor 
Spaniard. 

“Then let her go, and come in here with us,” he 
ordered ; and Gil obeyed willingly enough. 


ON BOARD THE ST. PAUL. 


3 


As they headed for the ship the officer began to ply 
him with questions, but he could only answer that he 
had been detached on secret service and was not at 
liberty to speak. 

“ I should like to ask, though, sir,” he said, “ what 
has become of my ship, and how the St. Paul comes 
to be here.” 

“We passed the St. Louis at midnight last night,” 
the officer replied, “ heading for New York. She was 
ordered home to receive more guns, and we are sent 
here to take her place. The Marblehead and the 
others have gone to Manzanillo.” 

Gil dared not speak; but those few words explained 
everything to him. The St. Paul had been sent to 
relieve the St. Louis, and there had been an unguarded 
interval of nearly twelve hours. And in that interval 
Cervera’s fleet had crept into Santiago harbor ! 

When he reached the ship he was left standing on 
deck for a few moments while word was taken aft, and 
presently a steward came to say that Captain Sigsbee 
was engaged, but that Lieutenant-Commander Driggs 
would see him. 

Gil was prepared for this. It was very presumptu- 
ous, under ordinary circumstances, for a cadet engineer 
to expect to be received by the commander-in-chief of 
a warship. But these were no ordinary circumstances. 

“ Please say to Captain Sigsbee,” he told the steward, 
“that I have just come from the Spanish fleet.” 


312 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


Ah, that was a very different matter ! Seventy mill- 
ions of Americans were waiting anxiously for news of 
the Spanish fleet; and the greatest captain or commo- 
dore or admiral in the navy was not too busy to talk 
with the man who had just left it. In two minutes 
more he was standing inside the door of Captain Sigs- 
bee’s room, giving the naval salute. 

“ Come in. Engineer Standish ; and be good enough 
to close the door after you,” said the gallant officer who 
commanded the Maine when she was blown up in 
Havana harbor ; “ I hear you bring important infor- 
mation.” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil replied, stepping up to the big table 
on the other side of which the captain was sitting. 
“ The Spanish fleet entered Santiago harbor last night, 
sir.” 

If he expected any exclamations of surprise, or joy, 
or anything else, from the captain, he was disap- 
pointed. Indeed, Captain Sigsbee did not reply at all, 
in words. He simply got up and stepped to the side 
of the room and blew a long blast into a speaking- 
tube, which went, as it proved, to the chief engineer s 
room. 

“ Keep full steam up till further orders,” Gil heard 
him direct through the tube ; and then he returned to 
his seat. 

“ Now, engineer,” he began, “ take that chair, and 
tell me your whole story as clearly as you can.” 


ON BOARD THE ST. PAUL. 


313 


Gil told everything, without reserve, and ended by 
drawing a very correct chart of Santiago harbor, on 
which he marked the exact position of each Spanish 
ship. 

“You have done wonderfully good service, engineer, 
wonderfully good ! ” the captain said, as he looked over 
the chart. 

Then he began to walk nervously up and down the 
floor. 

“It’s an ugly position — a very ugly position!” he 
muttered to himself. “ Four cruisers and two destroy- 
ers. H’m I Yes, very ugly.” 

He stepped up to a bell-button and pushed it, and in 
a moment, after a summons from a steward, an officer 
came in. 

“ Cervera’s fleet got into the harbor here this morn- 
ing, lieutenant,” he said. “This young man from the 
St. Louis has just come from there. Move the ship up 
a mile nearer the castle, and keep the search-light 
turned on the harbor mouth. And have the largest 
steam launch ready to start for Manzanillo in twenty 
minutes. I shall send you in the launch, engineer,” 
(turning to Gil) “to explain matters to Commander 
McCalla. The Marblehead ought to be at Manzanillo, 
and some smaller vessels that can be despatched for the 
fleet. We must have help here.” 

“ Help I ” repeated the lieutenant, who had just 
reached the door. “ We are alone, and almost 


314 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


unarmored. What can we do if the ships come 
out .? ” 

“ Do ! ” retorted Captain Sigsbee, with a Remem- 
Maine look in his eyes ; “ there is only one 
thing to do. If they come out, I shall fight the fleet, 
of course.” 


CHAPTER XXIII. 


THREE days’ FURLOUGH, 



ITHIN three days after Gil’s escape from Santi- 


V V ago, the sea in front of the harbor-mouth was 
alive with warships. And grand as was the scene by 
day, it was tame compared with the magnificent spec- 
tacle at night, when every ship in that noble fleet 
directed its powerful search-light upon the narrow 
entrance to that harbor in which the Spanish ships 
had taken refuge, and from which they were not to 
be allowed to escape without a battle. 

In the city itself the people were so joyful that they 
took Admiral Cervera in triumph to the Cathedral, 
where the highest officials of the Church offered thanks 
for the “ deliverance ” of the Spanish fleet. 

But Gil was not destined to see any of these great 
things. The St. PauVs launch took him with all speed 
to Manzanillo, where he had to retell his story to Com- 
mander McCalla, and draw another map of the harbor 
showing the positions of the ships. 

“ I knew you would do it, young man ! ” the com- 
mander said, clapping him heartily on the shoulder. 


3I6 cadet STANDISH of the ST. LOUIS. 

“ I saw it was in you before you started. But you 
hardly know how great this news is that you bring. 
That fleet is retired ; it is dead ! it might as well be 
at the bottom of the ocean ! ” 

“ This is a great service that you have rendered,” he 
went on, refusing to allow Gil to say a word ; “ a great 
and dangerous service, and you shall be rewarded for 
it. It is not in my power at the moment to say just 
how, but I shall see myself that you are rewarded.” 

“I do not look for any re — ” for any reward, Gil 
was going to say ; but the commander instantly silenced 
him. 

“ Hold on now ! I’ll do the talking myself. Within 
ten minutes I am off for Santiago, but not until I send 
a boat to the fastest transport here, which I shall order 
at once to Key West for reenforcements. And you 
shall go with her. Your work on shore is finished, and 
I shall send you to New York to rejoin your ship. 
Here is an order that will pass you from Key West 
to Tampa on the passenger ship, and from Tampa to 
New York by rail. That is the first thing I can do for 
you. It is only a small part of the debt that the govern- 
ment owes you.” 

On Sunday, the twenty-second of May, Gil stepped 
ashore from the transport at Key West. Though a 
brave sailor, he was still the same dutiful boy, and his 
first visit on American soil was to the telegraph office, 
where he sent this message to his mother : — 


THREE days’ FURLOUGH. 


317 


“ Mrs. G. W. Standish, Cairo, N.Y. : — 

“Just arrived here safe and well. In New York 
Wednesday. Then home if possible. 

“ Gilbert Standish.” 

The fast little steamer Mascotte carried him to Port 
Tampa, where he had the finst intimation that his news 
had preceded him by wire. Much to his surprise, an 
orderly was waiting for him on the wharf, with the 
message that Captain Brady wished to see him immedi- 
ately in the New York sleeper. 

He was taken into the car, and into the drawing- 
room at the end of the car, where he soon learned some 
new things about a government’s secret service in war 
time. 

“ I am the President’s confidential agent,” Captain 
Brady said, as soon as they had shaken hands, “ and he 
has directed me to get your account of the arrival of 
the Spanish fleet at Santiago, for his own use. We 
have only a half-hour to talk till I get off at Tampa, 
so we must lose no time.” 

Once more Gil went over his whole story and drew 
his plan of the harbor ; and as Captain Brady left the 
train at the Tampa Bay Hotel, he hardly knew what 
to do or say when he was informed that by the Presi- 
dent’s order that drawing-room had been reserved for 
his use to New York. 

The progress of the train was both too fast and too 


3I8 cadet STANDISH of the ST. LOUIS. 

slow for him. He had never travelled in a sleeping- 
car before, much less had the entire drawing-room 
to himself. And yet — ! Visions of home insisted 
upon coming up before him, and his old room on the 
St. Louis. 

At Jacksonville, at Savannah, at all the larger cities 
they passed through, he bought papers giving the lat- 
est war news; and by the time they reached Balti- 
more he found that the news he brought had changed 
the entire conduct of the war. Before, everything had 
been “On to Havana!” But now that was changed, 
and an army was preparing for the capture of San- 
tiago, fleet and all. The newspapers were not en- 
tirely sure yet that the Spanish fleet was there; 
“there was every reason to believe” that it was there; 
whereby Gil saw that the naval officers did not tell 
quite all they knew. 

As he approached New York, the latest papers told 
him that the St. Louis was lying .already at her old 
pier in the city, where she was taking on, not more 
guns, but a fresh supply of coal and provisions, to 
last her for a long vigil, if necessary, before Santiago. 
Her orders had been changed through the very news 
that Gil had obtained. 

It was early in the morning when his train rolled 
into Jersey City; and as the pier was almost adjoining 
the ferry, he lost no time there. Fortunately Captain 
Goodrich was on board, and Gil had an opportunity 


THREE DAYS FURLOUGH. 


319 


to see him as soon as he had exchanged his Cuban 
clothes for his usual uniform. His brief interview 
with the commander must have been very satisfactory, 
for on the way up to the Grand Central Station he 
stopped to telegraph to his mother: — 

“Will be home in noon train, on three days’ fur- 
lough.” 

How familiar everything looked as he travelled over 
the little railroad from Catskill to Cairo ! Old Black- 
head had never seemed such a good friend before. 
And Roundtop, in its fresh coat of green. His heart 
thumped as the train drew up at the station; and in 
another minute he was pulled this way and that by 
the crowd of friends who had come to greet him. 

“ Oh, Gil ! ” was all that his mother could say as 
she clung to the neck of her boy-hero. And Rose 
seemed determined never to let him go; and Mrs. 
William J. showed her delight; and D. K. Stevens 
at the head of a throng of the boys and young men 
of Cairo, with an immense bouquet of flowers that 
must have been hard to find among the Catskills at 
that time of year. 

“ It’s not the welcome we meant to give you, Gil ! ” 
said D. K. “ But your mother wouldn’t let us do 
any more.” 

“What do you think these foolish boys wanted to 
do ? ” Mrs. Standish asked, as soon as she could get 
in a word. “ They were going to have the Cairo band 


320 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


out to escort you to the house. But I knew you 
wouldn’t want that.” 

“ The band ! ” Gil exclaimed ; “ well, I should think 
not. What on earth put that in their heads ? ” 

“ Oh, don’t put on too much modesty, Mr. Engi- 
neer ! ” D. K. laughed. “ We know all about you. I 
guess Cairo has done her part in this war, and all 
through you. What does this mean, then ? ” 

He took from his pocket a newspaper of the day 
before, folded down to a small compass, and held 
before Gil’s face a small paragraph marked with ink, 
under the heading “ Naval Orders ” : — 

“ Cadet Engineer Gilbert Standish of the auxiliary 
cruiser Sf. Louis is recommended for promotion for 
meritorious conduct on special duty. (Second mention 
in general orders.) ” 

“ Well, that’s news to me ! ” Gil exclaimed, turning 
red. “ I haven’t heard a word of it before. But come 
along ; we must go home all the same.” 

“ The boys ” thoughtfully left him to his family, 
except that as he went down the station steps D. K. 
waved his hat and shouted : — 

“Three cheers for Cairo’s hero, Gil Standish ! ” 

They were given with a will, and Gil took off his hat 
in return ; not puffed up with so much attention, but 
rather glad to escape so easily. 

He had not been gone long enough this time to find 
many changes ; and he would have hung his hat on the 


THREE days’ FURLOUGH. 


321 


rack as if he had just been down the street, if Rose 
had not prevented him by force from doing anything 
for himself. 

“ The idea ! ” she exclaimed ; “ and you just back 
from Santiago ! Now don’t waste any time about it, 
Gil, but do sit right down and tell us what on earth 
you were doing in Santiago. We got your letter, such 
a funny little letter, and it frightened us all out of a 
year’s growth.” 

“ Oh, give the boy time to catch his breath. Rose,” 
his mother expostulated. “ Here’s the big rocking- 
chair waiting for you, Gil, with a soft cushion in it. 
Oh, I’m so glad ! ” And to prove how glad \she. was 
she threw her arms once more about his neck and 
fairly moistened his vest with her tears. 

“ Well, I don’t see that there’s anything to cry over,” 
said the matter-of-fact Mrs. William J. ‘‘ He’s been to 
the war and done his duty, and now he’s home again. 
It’s all right, isn’t it ? ” 

“ Of course it is ! ” Rose whimpered ; “ don’t cry. 
Aunty ! ” and immediately clapped her handkerchief to 
her face to conceal her own tears. 

But these were tears of that happy kind that give 
place readily to laughter; and when Gil began his 
story of Santiago, as they compelled him to do at 
once, they were too much interested either to laugh or 
cry. 

When he told them how he stoo*d for two days on 


322 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


deck under the blazing sun to acquire the real Cuban 
color, Rose interrupted with : — 

“ Oh, thafs why you’re so black, is it } I thought if 
everybody got as dark as you are down in Cuba, I 
didn’t care to go there to live.” 

“ Ah ! but you’d better wait till you see the place, 
oiir place, down there, before you talk ! ” Gil laughed. 
“There’s nothing like it anywhere about here, I tell 
you. Why, there are more rooms in that house — but 
hold on ; I’m getting ahead of my story. We’ll come 
to that presently.” 

“ Yes, let him tell us his story. Rose,” Mrs. Standish 
said. “ But what is the use of talking about that place, 
Gil } Do you really think we are ever going to come 
into our own ^ ” 

“Yes, I do, mother,” he answered. “I can’t say 
just how or when, for so far the war has made little 
difference in the situation. But it is right that we 
should have it, and I believe the right will come out on 
top in the end. There’s no telling what may happen 
before the war is over, and I firmly believe we shall 
come into possession of that property. Now that 
Cervera’s fleet is safely fastened up in Santiago 
harbor — ” 

“ What ! ” they all exclaimed at once. “ Cervera at 
Santiago ! How do you know that ? ” 

“ Well, I ought to know something about it,” he said, 
crossing his legs comfortably and looking thoughtfully 


THREE days’ FURLOUGH. 


323 


at the fire. “That was what I was there for, and I 
didn’t leave till I had counted his ships in the harbor. 
But look here ! You may as well say nothing about 
that outside, for a while. I see the department has 
not made public the news I brought ; and it is just as 
well not to talk too much. Of course it is very impor- 
tant news, or the President wouldn’t have brought me 
North in the drawing-room of a sleeper.’’ 

“The President!’’ Gil was getting in deeper and 
deeper, for every one of these great things had to be 
explained, and it was the hardest thing in the world for 
him to tell his story connectedly. Dinner had been 
eaten before the narrative was finished ; and he had 
hardly concluded before he had to begin all over again, 
for the neighbors thought the family had had time 
enough for their greetings, and they flocked in till the 
sitting-room was so full that Rose had to go and build 
a fire in the parlor. 

“ This is the liveliest war I ever did see,’’ D. K. Ste- 
vens declared, after everything had been well talked 
over, except the arrival of the Spanish fleet, which Gil 
did not mention ; “ and I believe you’re the liveliest fel- 
low in it, Gil. Why, it’s not four weeks yet since you 
sailed from New York, and here you’ve been in dear 
knows how many fights, been all over Cuba among the 
Spaniards, and been twice mentioned in general orders. 
You’ll come home ‘ Admiral Standish ’ when the war 
is over.’’ 


3^4 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“No fear of that!” Gil modestly declared. “You 
see on the auxiliary cruisers we are not part of the real 
navy. We are sworn in, to be sure, but we are hardly 
in the line of promotion outside of our own ships. 
Besides, there are a thousand better men than I am 
on the cruisers.” 

It was not till nearly bedtime that they had a chance 
for further talk among themselves, and then Gil insisted 
upon hearing how things had been going at home. 

“Just as well as they could with you away!” his 
mother declared. “ Mr. Merrifield and all his family 
are coming on Saturday, to spend the summer. He 
says the government has taken nearly all their ships, 
and there is not much for him to do. If only our Gil 
were not going away again, we could be perfectly 
happy.” 

“Oh, he’ll not be away a great while,” Rose inter- 
rupted ; “this war is not going to last very long.” 

“ Now you’re talking solid sense, sissy ! ” Gil laughed. 
“ Few people know how nearly this war is over. The 
Spaniards have lost their Pacific fleet, and now their 
best fleet is as good as gone at Santiago (Commander 
McCalla says so himself), and they will have only one 
poor little fleet left that two or three of our ships can 
easily handle. Then how can they get supplies to 
Cuba ? The war will be over inside of three months ; 
and then maybe — only maybe ^ mind you — we will go 
down and take possession of one of the best coffee 


THREE days’ FURLOUGH. 


325 


plantations in Cuba. Don’t you let anything happen 
to the old black trunk, mother, and the papers it con- 
tains. They may be very useful some day. I can’t 
see yet how it is coming about, but it will come.” 

He could hardly realize that he was “ turning in ” in 
his own bed, with no watches to stand, no fear of being 
taken for a Yankee spy. And yet — and yet — when 
he awoke in the morning he could not help thinking, 
“ It is kind of handy to have a young darky to bring 
your coffee and have your fresh clothes all ready in 
the morning. I think the folks will enjoy Cuban life, 
if we ever get down there.” 

One of the tasks that Gil set for himself occupied a 
large part of his brief stay in Cairo. The time might 
come, he thought, when he should be able at least to 
put in a claim for the Standish plantation ; and when it 
did come he should need the papers to show. But the 
original deeds were too precious to be risked on a 
cruiser in war-time ; and he set to work to copy them 
all, and have the copies attested before a notary public. 
Rose gave him all the assistance she could, but it was a 
long and difficult work. 

He could not walk down the street as far as Jason’s 
store without being stopped fifty times to shake hands 
with friends; and when the last day of his furlough 
came, he had to say his last farewells in the midst of a 
crowd at the station. 

“ I don’t pity you a bit ; I envy you,” Rose found an 


326 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

opportunity to whisper in his ear at the last moment. 
“ I wish I could go along. You don’t know how many 
rolls of bandages I have sent for the wounded soldiers, 
Gil, but I hope you won’t need any of them.” 

‘‘ My dear boy, do try to keep out of danger ! ” his 
mother begged. “And don’t forget who has spared 
your life so far ! ” 

“ Here, Gil! ” D. K. shouted at the open car window 
as the train moved off ; “ it’s not army food, but a re- 
minder of old times.” 

The little box he handed in proved afterwards to be 
filled with sticks of candy from the showcase in the 
store — sassafras, and cinnamon, wintergreen, lemon, 
and mint; and Gil ate them as contentedly as if he 
had not been the hero of Guantanamo, going to renew 
his fierce conflict with the Spaniards. 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


THE YOUNG HERO’S REWARD. 

M ay had been a busy month in the war; but June 
was to be more busy still; and July? Ah, the 
blood will jump in the veins of your great-grand-chil- 
dren when they read of the events of the early days of 
July, 1898. There was no Hobson in May, no MerrimaCy 
no historic despatch from Sampson before Santiago, 
coming while we were shooting our firecrackers on the 
lawn, “I send the nation for a Fourth of July present 
the news of the destruction of the entire Spanish 
fleet ! ” 

But considering the absence of these heroic things, 
we were doing very well even in the closing days of 
May. Gil, for his part, resumed his old duty in charge 
of the refrigerating plant of the St. Louis, but with a 
very different standing in the service than he had be- 
gun with. Whether he was to be promoted to any- 
thing better or not, he did not know ; but he was left 
no room to doubt that he had earned the approbation 
and good will of his superiors. 

'‘You did credit to the ship and the whole navy, 
327 


328 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

while you were in Cuba,” Captain Goodrich said to him 
on his return. “ When we capture or destroy that fleet, 
as we certainly shall, you can feel that you had as much 
to do with it as any commodore in the navy. I shall 
have to put you back at your old work for the present, 
because there is nothing better for you. You know 
how hard it is in this branch of the service to do justice 
to the men who distinguish themselves. But your turn 
will come, in some shape or other. You have made 
some excellent friends, and they will not forget you.” 

It amused Gil to see how differently Jack Knowles 
and Tom Hunter treated him when he went back to his 
work. It was almost as if Captain Goodrich or Com- 
mander McCalla had come into their department to 
superintend the little engine. But the best of all, he 
thought, was when Ben Han way came into the state- 
room to give him a welcome back. 

“ Put it right there, Standish ! ” he said, holding out 
a great brawny hand stained with grease ; “ you’re a 
trump, in every sense of the word. There ain’t a man 
on the ship but’s glad to see you back — though most 
of us didn’t think we ever should see you again. What 
did you do with the clothes I dressed that Cuban boy 
up in ? ” 

“ Oh, they’re scattered around different parts of 
Santiago,” Gil laughed. 

“ Then you went without clothes, I suppose } ” 

“ Not exactly. I blossomed out into a great Cuban 


THE YOUNG HERo’s REWARD. 329 

swell after that. Why, Ben, I’ve left one of the best 
outfits of thin clothes down there you ever saw.” 

“All right,” said Ben, clapping him on the shoulder. 
“We’ll go right down and get them. We’re off to- 
night for Santiago direct.” 

“I know it,” Gil answered. “And how queer it will 
seem to be anchored off there again, now that I know 
the city so well.” 

But when they reached there, on the second of June, 
it seemed strange for more reasons than that. For 
miles off the Morro Castle the sea looked like a great 
city. Such a fleet had never been seen in service in the 
Western Hemisphere before. All day long signals 
waved from the great steel warships, and all night their 
search-lights made shore and water as bright as day. 

And on the very next night Hobson immortalized 
himself by sinking the Merrimac across the mouth of 
the harbor. Gil was too generous even to regret that 
he was not back in time to make one of the crew. 
“Now if they want a hero,” he said to himself, “there’s 
one for them ! ” 

But the St. Louis was not destined to remain all the 
time with the fleet. On the eighth of June Gil assisted 
once more in shelling the forts of Caimanera. On the 
tenth he was off Morant Point, Jamaica, with a Spanish 
merchantman prize they had captured. Then came 
much scouting service, and on the 28th they chased the 
Antonio Lopez ashore at Punta Salinas. 


330 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


On the first day of July the St. Louts again started 
north for more guns, but several little matters inter- 
fered with her plans. On the second she captured the 
British sloop Wary, a blockade-runner from Kingston 
for Cape Cruz ; and she might have handed her over 
to some other ship if orders had not come for her to 
return at once to Santiago. 

On the Fourth of July, steaming swiftly along the 
south coast of Cuba, Gil saw his old friends the 
Spanish ships again, ashore, burning, half sunken, 
deserted, battered almost beyond recognition by Ameri- 
can shells. Those ships that had steamed so proudly 
into Santiago harbor a few weeks before were smoking 
wrecks, their crews killed or captured, and Admiral 
Cervera himself a prisoner. 

The St. Louis did not by her unfortunate absence 
lose all participation in this great victory, for she 
carried the Spanish prisoners. Admiral Cervera in- 
cluded, to Portsmouth, and on the 14th of July sailed 
from Portsmouth for Annapolis to land Admiral Cer- 
vera there. And on that very day Santiago surren- 
dered to General Shatter’ s victorious army, and the war 
was practically at an end. 

When the Spaniards asked for peace, twelve days 
later, and General Wood was appointed military gov- 
ernor of Santiago, it did look very much as if all chance 
for promotion was gone. Worse than that, Gil could 
not see how the outcome of the war was to be of any 


THE YOUNG HERO’s REWARD. 33 1 

advantage to him in regaining possession of the planta- 
tion. Cuba was not to belong to the Americans, but 
to the Cubans ; and they might be as bad to deal with 
as the Spaniards. 

“ I have a great notion to show these papers to Captain 
Goodrich,” he said to himself one day, as the Sf. Louis 
was crossing over from Porto Rico to Santiago. “ I should 
like to know what he thinks of the prospects, anyhow.” 

Captain Goodrich was always so willing to grant him 
any favor in his power that he felt sure he should not 
be refused ; and he was right. The captain listened to 
Gil’s account of how they had been deprived of their 
property, and said, as he put the copies of the deeds in 
his pocket : — 

“ I don’t know much about such things myself, engi- 
neer; but I am to meet General Wood and Admiral 
Sampson in Santiago to-morrow, and I will explain 
the case to them and see whether they can do anything. 
Our flag has considerable influence in Cuba just now, 
you know.” 

It struck Gil that there was something peculiar in 
the captain’s manner of speaking ; but there was so 
little chance of anything coming of it that he soon gave 
his attention to other things. It was not till the follow- 
ing evening, when the ship lay close under Morro Cas- 
tle, and the captain had just returned from the city in 
the launch, that it was recalled to his memory by a 
summons from the captain’s steward : — 


332 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ Captain Goodrich wishes to see you in his room, 
sir ! ” 

“ Very good,” Gil answered ; “ I will be there imme- 
diately;” and he only took time to brush his hair and 
wash the worst of the oil from his hands. 

“ I laid your real estate claim before General Wood 
to-day, engineer,” the captain immediately began, “ and 
he has kept the papers for examination. Meanwhile I 
have brought you an order from headquarters.” 

He held out an unsealed envelope as he spoke, which 
Gil took, though he was so surprised that he hardly 
knew what to do with it. At the captain’s suggestion 
he took out its contents and read : — 

“ Santiago, Cuba, Aug. 2, 1898. 

“Cadet Engineer Gilbert Standish, of the Auxiliary 
Cruiser Si. LouiSy is detached from that ship and as- 
signed to shore duty. To report to General Wood, Mili- 
tary Governor of Santiago, without delay. 

“ Sampson, 

“ Commanding U. S. fleet before Santiago.” 

“ Detached from the ship ! ” Gil exclaimed ; “ does 
that mean that I am to leave her permanently, sir.^^ ” 

“ Well, you can put your own interpretation upon the 
order,” the captain replied, smiling. “ I think, though, 
if I were you, I should take all my effects ashore and be 
prepared for a long stay.” 


THE YOUNG HERO’S REWARD. 333 

This was such a surprise to the young engineer, that 
for a minute or two he stood reading the order over 
and over. 

“ And does it mean that I am to go ashore to-night, 
sir ? ” he asked at length. 

“ Oh, I think you need hardly go to-night. I imagine 
that to-morrow morning will be without delay.” 

“ I hope my service on the ship has not been unsatis- 
factory, sir ? ” Gil ventured to ask. 

“ Quite the contrary ! ” the captain declared, in a 
tone that left Gil no chance to doubt his sincerity. 
“Your service on the ship and on shore has been excel- 
lent, and I shall much regret to see you leave us. 

“ I see you are very much surprised at this order,” 
he continued, “ so I will relieve your mind by telling 
you that Commander McCalla was present at my con- 
ference with General Wood and Admiral Sampson to- 
day, and he had a great deal to say about you. In 
fact, it was he who,. with my consent, asked the admiral 
for this order. And as the commander is a great ad- 
mirer of yours, you may rest assured that it was done 
for your benefit. It is almost impossible, in this branch 
of the service, to reward suitably a man who distin- 
guishes himself on duty — impossible, that is, in the 
way of regular promotion. But when an admiral and 
the military governor of a province unite in desiring to 
honor one of their subordinates, you may be sure they 
can always find a way. Now that is as strong a hint as 


334 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


I can give you. Be ready to say good-by to the St. 
Louis early to-morrow morning, and I will send you 
ashore in the launch.” 

More mystified than ever, Gil saluted and retired, 
and spent the remainder of the evening in packing his 
clothes and saying good-by to his friends. He had had 
no idea, up to that moment, how much he was attached 
to the ship and the gallant comrades with whom he had 
sailed so long and by whose side he had been so often 
under fire. But there was the order from the admiral 
himself ; and there was nothing for him to do but pack 
and go. 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE OWNER IN POSSESSION. 

** A X TAIT a moment, Stan dish ! I don’t want you 
V V to report to me just yet.” 

That was the odd reception that Gil met from Gen- 
eral Wood when he entered his office on the morning 
of August third and began to speak. 

“There is no immediate hurry about that,” he went 
on. “After you report to me you will be subject to 
my orders ; and I don’t want you under my orders at 
present. You can enjoy the novelty of being a plain 
American citizen for a little while. Draw up that chair, 
will you; I want to talk about this plantation of yours.” 

“Not exactly mine, sir; but I have a claim upon it,” 
Gil answered, as he drew up the chair and sat down. 

The military governor of Santiago seemed, somehow, 
to pay very little attention to that remark. It was 
evident from his manner that he had made up his mind 
what was to be said and done. 

“ Let us first make sure of the identity of this place,” 
he began. “ It is the large place with a tower on 

335 


336 CADET STANDISII OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

one corner, standing on the summit of a hill, well out 
to the eastward, is it ” 

“ Yes, sir, that is it ; La Sierra, or of later years the 
Standish plantation.” 

“ Precisely,” the governor resumed. “ I have looked 
over your papers, and it seems to me that the heirs of 
the two Standish brothers are the legal owners of the 
place. But that we need not consider at present. Now 
tell me, my boy, who is in possession of that place ? ” 

**No one, sir; it is deserted and empty,” Gil an- 
swered. 

*‘Well, now remember that I am not talking to you 
in my official capacity, but simply as a fellow-country- 
man, when I say that possession is a very important 
matter. At present you have only a claim upon the 
property ; but if you were to take possession, the 
Spaniard would have the claim (a very weak one, I 
think), and the burden of proving his title would fall 
upon him. Does that suggest anything to your mind.?” 

“ It certainly does, sir!” Gil exclaimed. “ It tells me 
that the best thing I can do is to go out and take pos- 
session of the place at once.” 

“ Then I can tell you officially,” the governor went 
on, “that that place is needed for the uses of the 
Provincial Government, and that if I can find the 
owner of it (that is, for my purposes, the person in 
actual possession), I will lease it from him. Of course 
I have authority to seize it, but in this case I prefer to 


THE OWNER IN POSSESSION. 


337 


rent. I think you are too bright a young man to mis- 
understand me. You can come in at ten o’clock to- 
morrow morning, and if you are then in possession, 
we will talk about terms. Later in the day you can 
report to me and receive your orders.” 

With a thousand new ideas whirling in his head Gil 
started to go ; but the governor stopped him at the 
door. 

“ I think you will be in no danger out there,” he said, 
“ for the country is quiet. But if you have need of 
protection, get a message to me, and I will send you 
a guard.” 

This all came so suddenly, so “in a heap,” as Gil 
said to himself, that he could not at the moment make 
head or tail of it. But one thing he could do ; he knew 
a quiet haven of rest in Santiago, where he could sit 
down and think it out with the help of a friend in whom 
he had every confidence. 

In five minutes he was in front of the Almirez & 
Warfield warehouse. But there was no going to the 
little side door and ringing for Rafael to let him in, as 
he had expected. The iron shutters were all swung 
back, the big doors stood wide open, and people were 
going in and out. For the stars and stripes waved over 
the city hall, and business had come to life. 

“ Well, Standish ! ” Sefior Warfield exclaimed, when 
Gil presented himself in the counting-room, “ how 
glad I am to see you back ! I was sure you’d be here 


338 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


sooner or later. Your clothes are all just as you left 
them upstairs.” 

“ I was sure of that, too ! ” Gil laughed; “and I shall 
put some of them on, for this heavy uniform is roasting 
me. And I have great news, senor, though I don’t 
know yet exactly what it means. I think maybe you 
can tell me. It may be that I have come to Cuba to 
stay.” 

“You couldn’t tell me better news than that, Stan- 
dish ! ” the merchant exclaimed. “You’re just the sort 
of young American we want down here. Come up- 
stairs to our old den and tell me all about it.” 

Upstairs Gil had another cordial welcome to receive 
from Rafael ; and then they sat down, and he told his 
whole long story to Senor Warfield — about his father 
and uncle, and the plantation, and his diving for the 
cable at Caimanera, and his being twice mentioned in 
general orders, and the good friends he had made 
among the commanders of the fleet. 

“ Well, upon my word ! ” the senor cried, when Gil 
finished. “And you never gave me a hint of what a 
hero I had in the house ! But it’s all plain enough 
now. Don’t you see that they have found a way to 
show that they appreciate your services.? General 
Wood ! Why, man alive, you don’t know what an 
autocrat General Wood is in this town. A military 
governor is as absolute a monarch as the Czar of Russia. 
If he says you’re to have possession of that plantation. 


THE OWNER IN POSSESSION. 


339 


the thing is done. It’s the greatest chance I ever 
heard of, to get your land back without the expense of 
a long lawsuit. But you deserve it, Standish ! You 
earned it by the way you fought your way out of San- 
tiago, if in no other way.” 

“But what can the government want with the place?” 
Gil asked. 

“ Ah, that I can’t say,” the senor answered. “ But 
you will find out in due time. When Governor Wood 
is looking out for you, you don’t need to worry your 
head about anything, my boy. Now let me lay out a 
plan for you. Shall I ? ” 

“That’s just what I hoped you would do,” Gil 
replied. 

“Then after breakfast we will have Rafael load a 
basket with provisions and two or three hammocks, 
and we will drive out to the plantation and spend the 
night there, and that will put you in possession. After 
that you will do just as Governor Wood tells you, of 
course. By the way, have you plenty of money ? 
You must consider me your banker now till you are 
settled in Cuba.” 

“Oh, I have plenty for the present, thank you,” 
Gil answered. “And I should like to ask you, senor, 
— was there any fault found about the money I spent 
while I was here before ? ” 

“Fault found!” the sefior repeated; “what, over 
paying a few gold pieces for the greatest news of the 


340 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


war.!* Well, I should think not! Why, if there had 
been three more ciphers added to the amount, my 
boy, that news would have been cheap to the govern- 
ment. Oh, no I that little bill was paid without a word.” 

A few hours later their hammocks were swung on 
the great front piazza of the Standish plantation house, 
and Gil, with his hat off, made formal announcement 
that he took possession of the property in the name 
of the legal owners. They had nothing better than 
an empty barrel for a dinner table; but that did not 
interfere with their enjoyment of the meal, nor with 
a refreshing night’s sleep in the soft breeze fresh 
from the Caribbean Sea; and in the morning Rafael 
was left behind to keep possession until Governor 
Wood’s intentions were known. 

“Now, young man,” the governor began, when Gil 
presented himself at ten o’clock, “am I to understand 
that I am talking to the owner in possession of the 
Standish plantation ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” Gil answered; “I found the place de- 
serted yesterday afternoon, and took possession before 
witnesses.” 

“Very well, then,” the governor continued. “I 
want that place for a signal station. All vessels pass- 
ing to or from the eastward are to be sighted and 
reported from there; and in a few months the home 
government will probably establish a signal service 
bureau there. How much land is there.**” 


THE OWNER IN POSSESSION. 


34 


“About seven thousand acres, sir,” Gil answered. 

“A large tract,” the governor resumed, “and a fine 
large house. I can offer you two hundred and fifty 
dollars a month for the use of the premises. Is that 
satisf actory ? ” 

Whether satisfactory or not, it was such a surprise 
that it nearly took Gil off his feet. But, fortunately, 
the governor was not the man to wait long for a reply. 

“Very well, then,” he said, using his favorite expres- 
sion, “ I will have a lease drawn, and it can be signed 
later on. And now that this matter is settled, you 
may report for duty.” 

Gil stood up and gave a military salute, and said that 
he reported to General Wood under orders received 
from Admiral Sampson. 

“You are assigned to duty in the signal service,” the- 
governor announced, in a more “ official ” and com- 
manding tone than he used before, “ and will continue 
to hold the rank and pay of a cadet engineer until 
further orders. You are directed to take charge of the 
signal station to be established to-morrow on the prop- 
erty known as the Standish plantation, and of the 
guard of forty men that will be sent there. The details 
of your duty you will receive from the assistant adju- 
tant general.” 

Gil’s face was red, but he merely raised his hand to 
his forehead in salute ; for a commanding officer mus^- 
not be thanked for the orders he gave. 


342 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


“ I want to caution you particularly, engineer,” the 
governor went on, “ about keeping the premises in such 
order as a government station demands. I shall select 
mechanics, as far as possible, to make up your guard, — 
masons, carpenters, painters, and so on, — and I expect 
you to keep them busy. If any of the buildings are in 
bad order, put them in repair. The fences and walls 
must all be repaired. The whole place, in fact, must 
be renovated. You are to dispose of your men in such 
a way as not to interfere with the owner and his family 
if they choose to occupy the greater part of the house. 
Good day, engineer.” 

After another salute Gil found himself somehow out 
in the corridor, and then in the hot street. He under- 
stood it all now, but the details of the arrangement lost 
themselves in a sort of mist in his whirling brain. It 
was not so much the plantation he was thinking of, not 
even the renovated plantation house put in thorough 
order, as a certain little wooden house far away under 
the shadow of the Catskills, and the commotion his 
great news would create in it. But for the present he 
wanted nothing so much as another talk with his good 
friend Sefior Warfield. 

“ Well, now they did that neatly ! ” the senor declared, 
after Gil had told him what had happened. “ I knew 
there would be something of that kind, but I didn’t im- 
agine they would do it up so thoroughly. They couldn’t 
promote you in the service, the war being over, but 


THE OWNER IN POSSESSION. 


343 


they were bound to pay you up for the good work you 
did. So they first put you in possession of your prop- 
erty. Then they rent it of you, and pay you just about 
a fair rent for it as it stands ; it would be worth ten 
thousand a year if it was in running order. Then they 
make it a government station, so that you have the 
backing of all the American troops on the island if 
necessary. Then they put you in charge of the station, 
with orders to repair the whole place, which means in 
plain language that it is to be put in order at govern- 
ment expense. Yes, they’ve made a clean job of it.” 

“ Oh, Warfield, I don’t deserve all this ! ” Gil ex- 
claimed, as he listened to the recital of his good for- 
tunes. 

“ Oh, Standish, you just do deserve all this ! ” War- 
field laughed, mimicking his tone. “And I’m going to 
add my mite to it, too. I intend to lend you Rafael 
to take care of you till you bring your family down. 
What a jolly letter you will have to ^ write them this 
time ! ” 

“ No, not this time,” Gil answered, with a new light 
in his face. “ I shall only tell them just now that I 
have been detached for duty on shore. I want to have 
everything ready for them when they come, and to give 
them a surprise.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


A THANKSGIVING DINNER ON THE STANDISH ESTATE. 



HANKSGIVING day, the first Thanksgiving Day 


1 after the war with Spain, was a bleak wintry 
day in the Catskill region. The sharp north wind blew 
the falling snow through Cairo’s streets with fury, and 
in two hours Blackhead and Roundtop were changed 
from brown to spotless white. The wind blustered 
through the stores, slammed shutters, rattled windows 
and doors, and made itself unpleasantly felt in every 
house save one. It was not felt in the Standish house, 
for there was no one there to feel it. Every shutter 
was closed tight, every door locked and barred. 

In some more temperate regions, in Cuba, for in- 
stance, the atmosphere was clear as crystal and balmy 
as the Northern summer. From the observatory on the 
Standish house tower the soldiers could look across the 
shining Caribbean Sea to the Blue Mountains of Ja- 
maica. The hot air was tempered by the ocean breeze, 
but all the soldiers were clad as lightly as the regula- 
tions allowed. No sleigh bells were to add their music 
to the celebration of Thanksgiving Day, on the Standish 


344 


THANKSGIVING DINNER ON THE STANDISH ESTATE. 345 

place ; but there were some turkeys less in the flock ; 
and the Cuban cook, determined now to be an Ameri- 
can, had learned to shout “ three cheers for the scars 
and scripes, ” and to make mince pies. 

At eleven o’clock in the morning of that most beauti- 
ful of days, a little procession of vehicles drove into 
the Standish grounds and up to the plantation house 
— three volantes in front, each drawn by two horses, 
and a mule wagon loaded with trunks in the rear. 

“ Now, then, mother ! ” Gil cried, as the first volante 
stopped at the entrance to the house and he sprang 
out, “ here we are. Don’t bother your head with those 
bundles; there are plenty of people to take care of 
them.” 

Oh, I never can get used to these new ways of 
having somebody to do everything for you,” Mrs. 
Standish answered, as she gathered up three or four 
parcels, while Gil lifted her out as tenderly as if she 
was some choice article that must be taken great care of. 

“ Now, then, aunty ! ” he went on, as the next 
volante came up and he helped Mrs. William J. out. 
“ Your troubles of travel are over at last. And D. 
K. ! Well, I can’t quite believe it yet, that D. K. 
Stevens is actually here in Cuba with us.” 

Here we are. Rose ! ” That was when the third 
volante came up. “ Oh, you’re going to help her 
out yourself, Senor Warfield, are you ? Well, look 
out now, or I shall be jealous, I tell you ! 


346 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“ Now, folks,” Gil rattled on, half beside himself 
with the joy of having them all around him, “ come 
right out to the front veranda, where everything is 
ready to make you comfortable. That’s the choice 
part of a Cuban house, you know.” 

In a minute more they were all seated in the com- 
fortable chairs that stood ready for them ; and a 
half-dozen colored servants, male and female, took 
their wraps and bundles. The newcomers were all 
so full of things to tell that for a few moments the 
big veranda was a regular babel. 

“ And so the transport gave you a rough voyage, 
did she, mother ? ” Gil asked. 

“ Why, the captain said it was very smooth ! ” his 
mother answered ; “ but if they call that smooth, I 
shouldn’t want to take a really rough one. You know 
I always was afraid of the sea. If it hadn’t all been 
so sudden, I never should have had the courage to 
start. But we only had three days after we got 
your letter, so we had to fly around. We just locked 
up the Cairo house with all the furniture in it; for 
I wasn’t going to break up the old home till I found 
whether we liked the new one. 

“ But what does this all mean, Gil ^ ” she went on. 
** Surely this can’t be our old place ? Why, this is 
like a palace ; and I always understood that our place 
was going to ruin.” 

‘‘ It just means a little surprise for you, mother,” 


THANKSGIVING DINNER ON THE STANDISH ESTATE. 347 

Gil answered, putting his arm around her. “ You’ve 
given me lots of pleasant surprises, and I wanted to 
give you one. Yes, this is the old place; and no 
house in Cuba can be in better order. My ! but 
we’ve done some hard work here ! And the whole 
house is well furnished ; for there is plenty of furni- 
ture for sale in Cuba just now.” 

“ But this can’t last, Gil, can it ? ” she asked, in a 
lower tone. “ I mean the government renting the 
place and letting us use it.” 

“ I don’t suppose it’s intended to last forever,” he 
replied; “but I think it will go on for several years, 
and that will put us completely on our feet. Why, 
we have found nearly twelve hundred good coffee 
trees on the place that escaped destruction, and that’s 
quite a start. And every fence and wall is in order; 
and you just ought to see the gardens we have 
made ! ” 

“ Now, Rose ! ” he called across the piazza to where 
she and Senor Warfield were busy talking, “ do you 
desert your poor old cousin entirely ? ” 

“ Oh, that’s the way with girls,” D. K. answered for 
her ; “ Rose and I were chums all the way down, but 
the minute a stranger appeared she deserted me too.” 

“ Well, we haven’t heard your report yet, D. K.,” Gil 
laughed. “You know how awfully glad I am to see 
you; but do tell me how in the world you ever got 
here.” 


343 CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 

“ I had a hard job of it, I tell you,” D. K. replied. *‘I 
didn’t like to see the three ladies come all this way 
alone, and I hadn’t taken a vacation for a good many 
years. Besides, I wanted to see the great Cuban plan- 
tation I’d heard so much about. But when I applied 
for permission to come with them on the transport, the 
captain laughed at me. I was only a poor miserable 
civilian, you know, and had no business with the army. 
But even a civilian can pull wires sometimes. I went 
to our Assemblyman, who is an old friend of mine, and 
he went to the governor, and the governor gave him a 
letter to General Miles, and General Miles gave me the 
permit, and here I am.” 

“ I’ll warrant you’d get here if you made up your 
mind to it, D. K.,” Gil declared. “ I never knew you 
to fail in anything yet. But come, friends and fellow- 
countrymen, now that you’re a little rested we must all 
get ready for the Thanksgiving turkey. We have ar- 
ranged to have breakfast at one o’clock to-day, and in 
Cuba breakfast means what you Northern folks call din- 
ner. Let me show you to your rooms to get ready for 
dinner.” 

With the help of the servants he took the whole party 
up to the sleeping-rooms ; and many were the exclama- 
tions of wonder and delight as they were examined. 
Such large, light, airy rooms ! And such wonderful 
views from the windows ! and such shining brass bed- 
steads and snowy coverings ! And most wonderful of 


THANKSGIVING DINNER ON THE STANDISH ESTATE. 349 

all, a marble bathing-pool adjoining each of the rooms 
the ladies were to occupy ; for the builder of the house 
had proper ideas of tropical luxury. 

The trunks were already in their rooms, and when 
they gathered down in the big parlor with its shining 
crystal chandeliers and floor of marble tiles, the ladies 
looked cool and comfortable in their thinnest summer 
clothes. 

“ You sly scamp ! ” Senor Warfield found a chance to 
say aside to Gil. “ What a fellow for keeping things to 
yourself ! You never hinted what a pretty cousin you 
had up North ! ” 

“Northern girls are all beautiful, senor,” Gil an- 
swered, as seriously as he could. 

There were more cries of delight when they reached 
the dining-room, which was not only floored but also 
walled with tiles, except where the large open spaces 
were shielded with jalousie blinds, through which there 
was a charming view of the blue sea. 

“Why, this is like being outdoors!” D. K. exclaimed. 
“ Do you know, I think Cuba would suit me very well 
to live in. I wonder whether there’s any chance to 
open a good general store down here.?” 

“ Indeed, I begin to think I shall like it myself,” 
said Mrs. Standish. “I don’t feel quite at home 
yet in such a palace, but I suppose I’ll get used to 
that.” 

“ It’s not so bad,” Mrs. William J. admitted; “though 


350 


CADET STANDISn OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


I don’t think these mountains are as handsome as the 
Catskills.” 

“Oh, you haven’t seen much of Cuban life yet,” Gil 
declared. “Wait till I take you out sailing in my new 
cutter ; or for a morning horseback ride over the planta- 
tion to see how the crops are growing! And you ought 
to see the Santiago stores I You’ll hardly believe it, but 
some of them are really finer than anything in Cats- 
kill!” 

There was very little of the Cuban flavor about that 
Thanksgiving dinner, for Gil had taken care that all 
the dishes should be as homelike as possible. Many 
a dish appeared that the Cuban cook had never heard 
of before, but under Gil’s directions they nearly all 
turned out well. 

“ I’m so thankful you have such good water, Gil,” 
his mother declared, after they were seated, “and no 
wine on the table. Do you know, I had an idea that 
everybody drank wine down here, because the water 
was bad.” 

“Not all, mother,” Gil laughed, “because I don’t, 
and I never saw Senor Warfield drink any. If the 
rest of them see us drink water and live, maybe they 
will be encouraged to try it themselves.” 

“ Oh, the Cuban water is generally good,” Senor 
Warfield interrupted. “ Even at its worst it is not as 
bad as the wine. I have always noticed that the busi- 
ness men here who drink wine and spirits generally 


THANKSGIVING DINNER ON THE STANDISH ESTATE. 35 I 

go to the dogs, while most of the others succeed. It 
is only in the large cities that the water is sometimes 
bad; and the 'Americans will soon remedy that evil.” 

The fat and juicy turkey and all its accessories could 
not stop the incessant flow of talk ; and in an interval 
between cranberries and oyster pie Rose took time 
to say : — 

“ I hope we shall meet some of your old Cuban 
friends, Gil; I mean besides Senor Warfield, for of 
course we consider him one of the family.” Then 
she blushed, and went on : “I want to see that Span- 
ish woman who had you arrested. I think I shall have 
some real pleasant things to say to her if I ever get 
a chance.” 

“ I am afraid you will not have that pleasure. Miss 
Standish,” Senor Warfield broke in. (It did seem as 
if the senor monopolized all the conversation with 
Rose.) “ She was living very near here, but she is 
no longer on the island. Her husband, the colonel, 
has gone back to Spain with his regiment, and she 
and the children have gone with him. It’s a pity, too, 
for a little plain American talk would be good for a 
woman who abuses the sacred rights of hospitality.” 

‘‘Well, that British consul who was so kind, and 
who sent your letter up to us ^ We shall see him at 
any rate, I hope.” 

“ Ah, Rose ! ” Gil exclaimed, “ we cannot have so 
much pleasure without some pain. Senor Warfield 


352 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


tells me that he attended the good Consul Ramsden’s 
funeral a few weeks ago. But there are some of my 
old friends you shall see. General Wood, the military 
governor, told me this morning that he hoped for the 
pleasure of coming out and being introduced to you 
all. And Ben Hanway, dear old Ben Hanway of the 
5/. Louis y is in the city on leave, and is coming out 
to-night to spend a fortnight with us. And there is 
one more, a dark young boy who was one of my first 
acquaintances on the island. I found him and his 
family almost starving ; but you may be sure they have 
not gone hungry since I have been on the plantation. 
This boy, Ramon, was a perfect skeleton when he 
showed me the road to Santiago. But he has a 
little flesh on his bones now, and he is to have the 
honor of being my personal attendant. Senor War- 
field is kindly going to let Rafael stay a week 
longer to teach him his duties in such a responsible 
position.” 

“ Ah, that’s just like you, Gil ! ” his mother asserted, 
in a voice that was just a trifle shaky ; “ I never knew 
you to forget an old friend. I’m sure you found him 
a good boy while he was with you in the city, Senor 
Warfield .? ” 

For a moment the senor sat looking thoughtfully at 
the goblet of sparkling water on the table before him. 
Then he pushed back his chair and stood up, and 
looked seriously at Gil. 


THANKSGIVING DINNER ON THE STANDISH ESTATE. 353 

“ Mrs. Standish,” he said, “ and all my new friends, 

I do not forget that this is a family gathering, and no 
place for toasts or speech-making. But it is an extraor- 
dinary occasion, brought about by the exertions, the 
skill, the bravery and the fidelity of our young host; 
and I should be shirking a solemn duty if I did not use 
the opportunity to say a few words about him. 

“Yes, senora, he was a good- boy while he was with 
me in Santiago; a good boy in every sense of the 
word ; and that means a great deal. He is a son to 
make any mother’s heart beat fast with maternal pride. 
His word is never to be questioned ; he is the soul of 
honor; I do not know of a single bad habit that he 
has ; and as to his bravery, the admiral of his fleet, the 
commander of his ship, the military governor of this' 
Province (all his friends, though he was only a cadet 
engineer), have testified eloquently to that in putting 
him in possession of this, his patrimonial property. It 
is a valuable property, that in these coming years of 
peace will support him and his in affluence. That is 
his just reward for serving his country and serving it 
well, without thought of his own life or prospects. I 
am proud, senora, to call your son my friend ; and I 
propose the toast” (taking up his goblet) “in this pure 
water of your own plantation, ‘ Gilbert Standish, a 
brave sailor and a true man ! ’ ” 

“ That’s a good one ! ” D. K. cried, springing to his 
feet, with a glass in his hand. “ I indorse every word 


354 


CADET STANDISH OF THE ST. LOUIS. 


of that. But I see an old friend outside on the flagstaff 
who mustn’t be forgotten on this American Thanks- 
giving Day on Cuban soil. I move an amendment : 
Here’s to our hero Gil Standish, and the glorious stars 
and stripes in the West Indies ! ” 


THE END. 





Jr. A. in/de Co , Publishers. 


War of the Revolution Series. 

By Everett T. Tomlinson. 

r HREE COLONIAL BOYS. A Story of the Times 

of ’76. 368 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

It is a story of three boys who were drawn into the events of the times, is patriotic, 
exciting, clean, and healthful, and instructs without appearing to. The heroes are 
manly boys, and no objectinnable language or character is introduced. The lessons of 
courage and patriotism especially will be appreciated in this day. — Boston Transcript. 

r 'HREE YOUNG CONTINENTALS. A Story of 

the American Revolution. 364 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

This story is historically true. It is the best kind of a story either for boys or girls, 
and is an attractive method of teaching history. — Journal of Edtication, Boston. 

^fTASHINGTONS YOUNG ALUS. A Story of the 

rr New Jersey Campaign, 1776-1777. 391pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

The book has enough history and description to give value to the story which ought 
to captivate enterprising boys. — Quarterly Book Review. 

The historical details of tlie story are taken from old records. These include 
accounts of the life on the prison ships and prison houses of New York, the raids of the 
pine robbers, the tempting of the Hessians, the end of Fagan and his band, etc. — 
Publisher's Weekly. 

Few boys’ stories of this class show so close a study of history combined with such 
genial story-telling power. — The Outlook. 

r ivo YOUNG PATRIOTS. A Story of Burgoyne’s 

Invasion. 366 pp. Cloth, (51.50. 

The crucial campaign in the American struggle for independence came in the sum- 
mer of 1777, when Gen. John Burgoyne marched from Canada to cut the rebellious 
colonies asunder and join another British army which was to proceed up the valley of 
the Hudson. The American forces were brave, hard fighters, and they worried and 
harassed the British and finally defeated them. The history of this campaign is one 
of great interest and is well brought out in the part which the “ two young patriots” 
took in the events which led up to the surrender of General Burgojme and his army. 

The set of four volumes in a box, $6.00. 



UCCESS. By Orison Swett Harden. Author of 

“ Pushing to the Front,” “ Architects of Fate,” etc. 317 pp. 
Cloth, $1.25. 


It is doubtful whether any success books for the young have appeared in modem 
times which are so thoroughly packed from lid to lid with stimulating, uplifting, and in- 
spiring material as the self-help books written by Orison Swett Marden. There is not a 
dry paragraph nor a single line of useless moralizing in any of his books. 

To stimulate, inspire, and guide is the mission of his latest book, “ Success,’’ and 
helpfulness is its keynote. Its object is to spur the perplexed youth to act the Columbus 
to his own undiscovered possibilities ; to urge him not to wait for great opportunities, 
but to seize common occasions and make them great, for he cannot tell when fate may 
take his measure for a higher place. 


W. A. Wilde Co., Boston and Chicago. 


IV. A. WilJe Co., Publishers. 


Brain and Brawn Series. 

By William Drysdale. 

r 'HE YOUNG REPORTER. A Story of Printing 

House Square. 300 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

I commend the book unreservedly. — Golden Rule. 

“ The Young Reporter ” is a rattling book for boys. — /lew Vork Recorder. 

The best boys’ book I ever read. — Mr. Phillips, Critic/or New York Times. 

r HE EAST MAIL. A Story of a Train Boy. 328 pp. 
Cloth, ^1.50. 

“ The Fast Mail ’’ is one of the very best American books for boys brought out this 
season. Perhaps there could be no better confirmation of this assertion than the fact 
tliat the little sons of the present writer have greedily devoured the contents of the vol- 
ame, and are anxious to know how soon they are to get a sequel. — The Art A mateur. 
New York. 

Cr-'HE BEACH PA TROT. A Story of the Life-Saving 
-t Service. 318 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

The style of narrative is excellent, the lesson inculcated of the best, and, above all, 
the boys and girls are real. — New York Times. 

A book of adventure and daring, which should delight as well as stimulate to higher 
ideals of life every boy who is so happy as to possess it. — Examiner. 

It is a strong book for boys and young men. — Buffalo Commercial. 

r HE YOUNG SUPERCARGO. A Story of the 

Merchant Marine. 352 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

Kit Silbum is a real “ Brain and Brawn ” boy, full of sense and grit and sound 
good qualities. Determined to make his way in life, and with no influential friends to 
give him a start, he does a deal of hard work between the evening when he first meets 
tlie stanch Captain Griffith, and the proud day when he becomes purser of a great 
ocean steamship. His sea adventures are mostly on shore; but whether he is cleaning 
the cabin of the or landing cargo in Yucatan, or hurrying the spongers 

and fruitmen of Nassau, or exploring London, or sight seeing with a disguised pnnee 
in Marseilles, he is always the same busy, thoroughgoing, manly Kit. Whether or not 
be has a father alive is a question of deep interest throughout the story; but that he 
kas a loving and loyal sister is plain from the start. 

The set of four volumes in a box, $6.00. 


^ERAPH, THE LITTLE VLOLLNLSTE. By Mrs. 
O C. V. Jamieson. 300 pp. Cloth, 1:1.50. 

The scene of the story is the French quarter of New Orleans, and charming bits of 
local color add to its attractiveness. — The Boston Journal. 

Perhaps the most charming story she has ever written is that which describes Seraph, 
the little violiniste. — Transcript, Boston. 


W. A. Wildj Cc., Boston and Chicago. 


2 


/F. A. Wilde Co., Publishers. 


Travel=Adventure Series. 



A story of absorbing interest. — Boston Journal. 

Uur young people will pronounce it unusually good. — Albany Argits. 

Col. Knox has struck a popular note in his latest volume. — Springfield Republican. 


r HE LAND OF THE KANGAROO. By ^'hos. 

\V. Knox. Adventures of Two Boys in the Great Island Con- 
tinent. 318 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 

His descriptions of the natural history and botany of the country are very interest- 
ing. — Detroit F>ee Press. 

The actual truthfulness of the book needs no gloss to add to its absorbing interest. — 
The Book Buyer, Neiu York. 



VER THE ANDES ; or., Our Boys 

America. By Hezekiah Butterworth. 


in New South 
368 pp. Cloth, 


No writer of the present century has done more and better service than Hezekiah 
Butterworth in the production of helpful literature for the young. In this volume he 
writes, in his own fascinating way, of a country too little known by American readers. — 
Christian Work. 

Mr. Buiterworth is careful of his historic facts, and then he charminglv interweaves 
his quaint stories, legends, and patriotic adventures as few writers can. — Chicago Inter- 
Ocean 

1 he subject is an inspiring one, and Mr. butterworth has done full justice to the 
high ideals which have inspired tlie men of South America. — Religious Telescope. 



OST IN NICARAGUA ; or., The Lands of the Great 

Canal. By Hezekiah Butterworth. 295 pp. Cloth, ^1.50. 


The book pictures the wonderful land of Nicaragua and continues the story of the 
travelers whose adventures in South America are related m “ Over tlie Andes ” In this 
companion book to “ Over the Andes,” one of the boy travelers who goes into the 
Nicaraguan forests in search of a quetzal, or the royal bird of the Aztecs, falls into an 
ancient idol cave, and is rescued in a remarkable way by an old Mosquit • Indian. The 
narrative is told in such a way as to give the ancient legends of Guatemala, the story of 
the chieftain, Nicaiagua, the history of the Central American Republics, and the natural 
history of the wonderlands of the ocelot, the conger, parrots, and monkeys. 

Since the voyage of the Oregon, of 13,000 miles to reach Key West the American 
people have seen what would be the value of the Nicaragua Canal. The book gives the 
nistory of the projects for the canal, and facts about Central America, and a part of it 
was written in Costa Rica. It enters a new field. 

The set of four volumes in a box, $6.00. 



UARTERDECK 
Elliott Seawell. 


AND FONSLE. 

272 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


By Molly 


Miss Seawell has done a notable work for the young people of our country in her 
excellent st<’ries of naval exploits. They are of the kind that causes the reader, no 
matter whether young or old, to thrill with pride and patriotism at the deeds of daring 
of the heroes of our navy. 


W. A. Wilde dr’ Co., Boston and Chicago. 


.3 


IV. A. IVilde Co-t Publishers. 

_ 

Fighting for the Flag Series, 

By Chas. Ledyard Norton. 


^^ACK BENSON' S LOG ; or^ Afloat with the Elagin 
T ’6r. 281pp. Cloth, $1.25. 


An unusually interesting historical story, and one that will arouse the loyal impulses 
of every American boy and girl. The story is distinctly superior to anything ever 
attempted along this line before. — The Independent. 

A story that will arouse the loyal impulses of every American boy and girl. — Tite 
Press. 



MEDAL. OF LLONOR MAN ; or., Cruismg Among 

Blockade Runners. 280 pp. Cloth, fif. 25. 


A bright, breezv sequel to “ Jack Benson’s Log.” The book has unusual literary 
excellence. — The Book Bjtyer, Ne^v York. 

A stirring story for boys. — The Journal, Indianapolis. 


J^WSHIPMAN JACK. 290 pp. Cloth, $1.25. 

J~fJ~ Jack is a delightful hero, and the author has made his experiences and ad- 
ventures seem very real - — Congregationalist. 

It is true historically and full of exciting war scenes and adventures. — Outlook. 

A stirring story of naval service in the Confederate waters during the late war. — 
Presbyterian. 

The set of three volumes in a box, $3.75. 



By Amy E. Blanchard. 


331 PP- 


“ A Girl of ’76” lays its scene in and around Boston where the principal events of 
the early period of the Revolution were enacted. Elizabeth Hall, the heroine, is the 
daughter of a patriot who is active in the defense of his country. The story opens with 
a scene in Charlestown, where Elizabeth Hall and her parents live. The emptying of 
the tea in Boston Harbor is the means of giving the little girl her first strong impression 
as to the seriousness of her father’s opinions, and causes a quarrel between herself and 
her schoolmate and playfellow, Amos Dwight. 



SOLDLER OE THE LEGLON 

YARD Norton. 300 pp. Cloth, $1.50. 


By Chas. Led- 


Two boys, a Carolinian and a Virginian, bom a few years apart during the last half 
of the eighteenth century, afford the groundwork for the incidents of this tale. 

'I'he younger of the two was William Henry Harrison, sometime President of the 
United States, and the elder, his companion and faithful attendant through life, was 
Carolinus Bassett, Sergeant of the old First Infantry, and in an irregular sort of a way 
Captain of Virginian Horse. He it is who tells the story a few years after President 
Harrison’s death, his granddaughter acting as critic and amanuensis. 

The story has to do with the early days of the Republic, when the great, wild, un- 
known West was beset by dangers on every hand, and the Government at Washington 
was at its wits’ end to provide ways and means to meet the perplexing problems of 
national existence. 


JV. A. Wilde dr* Co., Boston and Chicago. 


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